I imagined a cascade of slow death for all / that mattered…
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 imagine that undressing a color, though, would be so much like peeling a memory away from the grey and the white matter of your brain.
I am still waiting for the lion
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
My grandmother asked, “Does it feel like being widowed?”
Yes I am guilty, I’m guilty. A sin was desirable then. Bring the dancer back to the stalks.
Live the rest of your life from one worst case to another.
Winter sat like a wolf on the horizon.
you know that baby swallows make silver ripples in wild rivers to court reeds?
love is a soggy tea stain on a grocery receipt
Listen to me: I know the winter gloom in mid-summer…
The storm passes without snow. The car waits loyally in the back lot.
You let the yellow glow from eye sockets. The building up the street is burning faster and faster.
and apples, mackintosh mostly, but any kind left in The Pub at the Assisted Living Place
my friends’ fathers are dropping I mean dying like flies
He has stories that I am not in anymore. It’s healed this way.
Millions of Americans have been affected by identity theft. It’s probably the greenhouse gases.
I want to roll in this moment until I become its vocabulary until I smell like the bones until I am its echo…