Ma wrings
a wet world
of colors

my friends’ fathers are
dropping
I mean dying
like flies

Now that the Israeli has left, it falls
on me to make the salad.

He has stories that I am not in
anymore. It’s healed this way.

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

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

I have observed, the theorist
I am

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

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?”

love is a soggy tea stain on a grocery receipt

Part of being a good sad person
is always painting the shadows
in the right direction and knowing
what sorrow to art with.

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

If my life was the size of my arm, I would stretch it out for you.

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