Ghazal Failure

Naturalist renderings of genitalia, lavish, on cell walls,
brain, not jail, and scores: four lines vertical, one that falls.

I ask the Ineffable to contact me if possible in hieroglyphs,
make of all things visible a rebus whose meaning's clear and calls.

A downed electric line zigzags in water,
thrashes, stalls.

In the grade-school bathroom a boy named Michael
prints his name in shit in stalls.

Insert name here
among the scrawls.


Aaron Anstett


As reflected in his later pitiful GRE scores in the subject, Aaron Anstett (jalopytown@yahoo.com) recalls fondly using his math textbook to slide down the steep, snowy hill behind Wing Park Elementary.