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

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

Mostly he ate what was put on his plate
snuck coffee grounds or dirt for a snack
Once a zipper Unzipped

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

I count my homes—
those of my scattered youth
the sanctuary of our young family
the intermittent rest stops
of apartments and vacations.

The storm passes without snow.
The car waits loyally in the back lot.

I suffer visions and many indignities
while looking for the Lobster

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

Every so often, they add a tattoo
in honor of some long-forgotten love.

my love is a glass shard, a knife made of madness and moonlight,
and there are already way too many fragments in this house

I have an axe
with hearts gashed

Gravel-scatted hell &
we were blessed to be able
to hold on for even a heartbeat

My grandmother asked, “Does it feel like being widowed?”

my friends’ fathers are
dropping
I mean dying
like flies

we drove on through
the blue seal of morning as the turbines
turned and winked out their hearts

You are strange, my mother said, dwelling on the past.