OK, so these couple poems are from a different manuscript
called "Let X Be Rogue."
"There were rectangles everywhere.
And then without them, no one could sleep anymore.
The noise was angular, punishing.
It was all over the world like this.
But the world stayed world.
The haunts broken open.
We didn't have to listen in, because there were no walls.
Everybody sitting in torn up lawns, or walking in circles.
I'm not after you, said the ghost.
But no one could hear, because haunting has to be framed.
The winds were much happier.
But producers of the products could not hold their revolt.
And comparisons flew around, like birds
looking for windows."