“It feels like it feels like I’m in voles but it’s not voles.” It’s just a London bride, a dipper, a river licker, a thinking aloud and both. And she’s starring as this little bird that floats and drums. (It wavers and it wears an ashes coat). Sometimes it’s an ode and stream lined. (No she is not Marianne Moore). The way she likes it, down and frequently. I’m going low over the woman with bounties. Much more likely “aprons.” And made themselves “aprons.” (Probably nothing more than aprons out of dipper corpses). God I write like this. “I’m not in voles.” It’s just the dipper is our only drummer.