So now we'll come back up from the bottom of the pool--
[LAUGHTER]
--for "Shovel the Rubble--
Valentine with Broken Birds," which
is a play on a line by Chaucer.
"Enclosed find pieces of the starling flown flat
against my window, that flim-flam
unseeable too vivid to enter.
They don't go back there, the killdeer, not the swallows,
and not the rooks, not the sparrows,
or the run-and-pause plover, neither the red birds,
nor the red Cinderellas.
Enter here, the courtyard of hollow-boned wings.
Place your clavicle, a mandible behind the parchment,
a shadow pterodactyl post there."