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

love is a soggy tea stain on a grocery receipt

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

I would always rather be happy than
dignified. Rather held than held
in awe.

I suffer visions and many indignities
while looking for the Lobster

a folksome, gruesome opera
of gauze and malcontent.

Empty vessels
make the most sound, I think,
as you rip the fairy lights off the handrail.

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

my father holds
his favorite drink

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

Winter sat like a wolf
on the horizon.

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…

It recommended
soft porn, as gentle prodding and petting parent
to parent might calm and soothe the kid.

Any still figure at mid-late evening, when the long shadows make even crumbs appear arranged like furniture.

Even from this distance I could go out
the door it would bang shut and crumble

this is what I want you to to see:
leaves falling because it is too late for them not to