you know that baby swallows make silver ripples in wild rivers to court reeds?
Yes I am guilty, I’m guilty. A sin was desirable then. Bring the dancer back to the stalks.
We stop doing dishes while a mile unwinds from the tree outside.
I imagined a cascade of slow death for all / that mattered…
You’ve spent a lifetime training for this.
we drove on through the blue seal of morning as the turbines turned and winked out their hearts
It recommended soft porn, as gentle prodding and petting parent to parent might calm and soothe the kid.
Long after midnight, we’re talking about our first time
I have observed, the theorist I am
it’s touch-and-go with me and weddings
It is the 70s. 1970s? 2570s? Who knows? Audre and I have a penthouse in New York.
Do not say anything anybody else has said ever. Things are not “bleached by sun.”
you quit wearing pants loaf around your yard in hole-nipped panties
and then her eyes fully opened — blazed through with strands of mud
Empty vessels make the most sound, I think, as you rip the fairy lights off the handrail.
and apples, mackintosh mostly, but any kind left in The Pub at the Assisted Living Place
I don’t know why I’m in the garden kneeling on dirt
anger, like you can sink teeth into, candy apple
I am still waiting for the lion