Millions of Americans have been affected by identity theft. It’s probably the greenhouse gases.
I’msorry I‘ll see what happens iLife
it’s touch-and-go with me and weddings
If my life was the size of my arm, I would stretch it out for you.
I don’t know why I’m in the garden kneeling on dirt
In my universe, my arm carries a heart and flowers, my back a misguided quote
how does an afternoon turn on its axis?
Ghosts for hire, whispers in her mouth, cysts to feel, the symmetry of a gift.
Long after midnight, we’re talking about our first time
I slumped in front of a massive desk, a passive patient corroded with failure and dread.
this is what I want you to to see: leaves falling because it is too late for them not to
Part of being a good sad person is always painting the shadows in the right direction and knowing what sorrow to art with.
and apples, mackintosh mostly, but any kind left in The Pub at the Assisted Living Place
Just starlight and some small scribbling across vinyl.
I like to think I’m also sprung, released from the furnace knocks, done with the heavy meat stews and salty soups.
If America is Babylon / and you are an exile / newly arrived among pagans / Catholic, ‘Ngolan, Black, woman / you already know how to pray
The storm passes without snow. The car waits loyally in the back lot.
My grandmother asked, “Does it feel like being widowed?”
We stop doing dishes while a mile unwinds from the tree outside.
Any still figure at mid-late evening, when the long shadows make even crumbs appear arranged like furniture.