A dying firelight slides along the quirt br Of the cast iron cowboy where he leans br Against my father's books. The lariat br Whirls into darkness. My girl in skin tight jeans br Fingers a page of Captain Marriat br Inviting insolent shadows to her shirt. br br We rise together to the second floor. br Outside, across the lake, an endless wind br Whips against the headstones of the dead and wails br In the trees for all who have and have not sinned. br She rubs against me and I feel her nails. br Although we are alone, I lock the door. br br The eventual shapes of all our formless prayers: br This dark, this cabin of loose imaginings, br Wind, lip, lake, everything awaits br The slow unloosening of her underthings br And then the noise. Something is dropped. It grates br against the attic beams. I climb the stairs br Armed with a belt. br br A long magnesium shaft br Of moonlight from the dormer cuts a path br Among the shattered skeletons of mice. br A great black presence beats its wings in wrath. br Above the boneyard burn its golden eyes. br Some small grey fur is pulsing in its grip.