through the hollow

aluminum vent snaking

between walls

the rhythmic stomp

of a first-floor

alarm clock

sharpening its razors

seeps through a second-

story bedroom grate

and slices the frames

of dreams with

sweaty blades—

confusing scenes

with dead leaves

it tosses them out

for the wind’s

amusement—

all of this

destruction

before it peels

apart eyes

carefully

like

sleepy oranges