Empty vessels
make the most sound, I think,
as you rip the fairy lights off the handrail.

I suffer visions and many indignities
while looking for the Lobster

I am not a guide
for every traveler
of loss.

Long after midnight, we’re talking about our first time

I have observed, the theorist
I am

Try not to see your own predicament in every fucking thing.

Lights on the dashboard spell out
“You still can’t kiss me”

You said it was okay to blame
what goes wrong on the planet

I have an axe
with hearts gashed

the man is stayed bent over the canvas
of my sofa. the man is me the man is him
self and I bring down the whip…

my father holds
his favorite drink

Okay, picture this: We’re in an elevator. The elevator shuts down. It doesn’t matter where we’re going, only that we’re alone.

I don’t
know why
I’m in the garden
kneeling on dirt

You let the yellow glow
from eye sockets. The building up the street
is burning faster and faster.

and then her eyes fully opened — blazed through with strands of mud

If America is Babylon / and you are an exile / newly arrived among pagans / Catholic, ‘Ngolan, Black, woman / you already know how to pray