Long after midnight, we’re talking about our first time
Should have found a job by now; should have slept in the night; should have boiled old coffee before noon.
If my life was the size of my arm, I would stretch it out for you.
Try not to see your own predicament in every fucking thing.
Any still figure at mid-late evening, when the long shadows make even crumbs appear arranged like furniture.
The storm passes without snow. The car waits loyally in the back lot.
I like to think I’m also sprung, released from the furnace knocks, done with the heavy meat stews and salty soups.
You said it was okay to blame what goes wrong on the planet
In my universe, my arm carries a heart and flowers, my back a misguided quote
I am not a guide for every traveler of loss.
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.
and then her eyes fully opened — blazed through with strands of mud
I don’t know why I’m in the garden kneeling on dirt
Part of being a good sad person is always painting the shadows in the right direction and knowing what sorrow to art with.
this is what I want you to to see: leaves falling because it is too late for them not to
Millions of Americans have been affected by identity theft. It’s probably the greenhouse gases.
It is the 70s. 1970s? 2570s? Who knows? Audre and I have a penthouse in New York.
you know that baby swallows make silver ripples in wild rivers to court reeds?
Even from this distance I could go out the door it would bang shut and crumble
it’s touch-and-go with me and weddings