MOUND invited two very different kinds of Worku today. The senryu-like poems pile up baseball pressure, contaminated groceries, unpaid bills, money, and proverbial advice. The zappai-like poems discover how irresistible the sound of MOUND is beside words like HOUND, WOUND, BOUND, and POUND. Mark handles that temptation especially well: the rhyme chain never becomes the whole point because there is still a goofy found puppy underneath it all. That’s one of the pleasures—and traps—of a constraint like MOUND: sometimes sound gives you the poem, but the poem still has to give the sound somewhere to live.