in followed hour Barton Smock *** in followed hour *** drum sticks in shanty towns,      cup-shaped caverns holding windsongs           large hands batting tethered security cameras    pennies cracking the bottom of a long jar, poverty beating between the bars boiled in      night, hidden means of a pursued music      some endangered runaway's copied photo on a paper door     feather from a dying canary pressed like a bookmark      between unread mail on the floor of a room where no one has yet arrived, where late these watchers exaggerate the wind, pin kites to birds.