World As Puzzle Poem by A.Z. McCoy

Which corner laid first,
the peeled garden colors

Left time
Shorn of gloss and roughworn

Cardboard cutout male and female
Pieces torn

Where are the crowds
But dispersed

Running in pictures from
A high-frequency aural sting

Scream of mad hatters,
A table left so vividly bleak

The robots moved in next door
Unpacking their things

With stilted, generic voice
Keys lost somewhere in kitchen floor creak

The question haunts
Through crocheted fibers

Of bioluminescence
And material the dark shores buzz for

Inveterate vertebrate braided still
Not knowing this night lake outside our door

Bring the kids, bring the seashell
Wheel the whelk in viscous goo

Speeding at times of gray dawn
On our daily commute

It's these city associations
That fall on deaf fingers

Groping her still
To tune of a yesteryear prom song produced tomorrow

And I wave, her tiara sparkles
Pieced together with glue

She bled on TV, had numerous articles
Written in grotesque manner rich with homily

I see it all anew
These pieces fit so tight together

I see through a spotted lens
Troubled With the prints of my finger.