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

I have an axe
with hearts gashed

I want to roll in this moment until I become its vocabulary
until I smell like the bones
until I am its echo…

you know that
baby swallows make silver ripples
in wild rivers to court reeds?

The sin is existing.

I myself should never have been born

Ma wrings
a wet world
of colors

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

I imagined a cascade of slow death for all / that mattered…

There is so little left of the tomato plants.

I am still waiting for the lion

you quit wearing pants
loaf around your yard
in hole-nipped panties

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

a folksome, gruesome opera
of gauze and malcontent.

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

I suffer visions and many indignities
while looking for the Lobster