not beyond but done—its o
the house crawls full of bees
by the waters in Chicago   yes where all our currency of
blame was lost
          a small small agent built a ship
          over and over sure  sure  we were sure
she took the sidewalk    took jewlery   took fall   took

information from our ears        and sure
sure  we withered in our house full of bees

by the water  less the sidewalk   by the crawling currency
of lostness
and shore   with all our jewels

the agent in a sure small ship lost our shore 



I am in   love with  bees  and  sidewalks and
jewlery in fall. I am in  love with  ships  and
ship  builders and I am sure of my  house in
Chicago    with    bees    am   sure   of   small
conversations  and currency  and sure of my
ear near currents of  water and sure that the
sidewalk  crawls over lost agents and blame.
I am in love with the  effort of bees with less
yeses  and lost  formations and  yes I  am the
love of blameless Chicago.

don't build      ship

                          sure up the agent of blame
and ship her  the bees are assured
of fall    the swift currency
of water over conversations      in Chicago

you fall    because you are lost  less
and lost    this fall     this agent
of surety     of blame effortless    and bees
falling sideways on waterwalks
assures you of lost currency   of shoreless
lost ships    of
                                               over in Chicago

the bees blamed less every year.
of over.
                                               over in Chicago
jewleryless agents crawl fallen sidewalks
the water cages over
                            so don't build     ship

blame in the bee house

build effort   build blame   build your own Chicago hive
crawl the sidewalk to it   build anything
but don't loose it                                      and when you do
                                                                                 blame me

blame me for Chicago       for lost bees         for currency
of ears in conversation waterlogged amidst the ships

blame me     for  I built them
the currency of wate      houses of crawling conversation
fear ships         agent blame & her jewlery

so build a bee fall       build yesterday lost
build your blame house in Chicago
lease it to the lost   the shipless   the small and blaming
                                                                          and blame me

blame me or build me yesterday less blame built

Aby Kaupang, author of Little “g” God Grows Tired of Me (SpringGun Press, 2013), Absence is Such a Transparent House (Tebot Bach, 2011) and Scenic Fences | Houses Innumerable (Scantily Clad Press, 2008), has had poems appear in FENCE, La Petite Zine, Dusie, Verse, Denver Quarterly, The Laurel Review, Parthenon West, PANK, Aufgabe, 14 Hills, Interim, Caketrain, & others. She holds master’s degrees in both Creative Writing and Occupational Therapy from Colorado State University. She lives in Fort Collins with the poet, Matthew Cooperman, and their two children. More information can be found at http://www.abykaupang.com