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It's twilight

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Maybe, after years of writing poems like letters, he began to notice that no one ever wrote him back.

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I hate turnstiles and revolving doors


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Unless we see it, probe it, Name it, star by star, and feel This awful, tenuous gratitude.

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The sirens didn’t eat the sailors


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a few Hershey's Kisses tucked in with the note

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wonder at all the things done without regard for you at all.

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Walking down an unfamiliar street, / I heard a sudden caw of crows, / some thunder afar, strums of a lute— / a streetcar came flying along.


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Through feeling her life story, I understood mine, more,


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After you lost sight in your left eye, mom made me go on the road with you that last summer to help you see.

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Sometimes we hurt ourselves, we scratch ourselves, we bleed — for a simple joy... All I wanted to do was to find the poplar again — the tree of my young arms, of my budding breasts. My fingers used to circle around its bold and vigorous waist, but in the…

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She'd had every reason to believe he'd be difficult, though he wasn't.

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We laugh at them, parading two-by-two, the elephants rolling tail to trunk across the makeshift gangplank, wide slats flexing under their sway. A pair of snakes contemplates gulping a pair of frogs and their clandestine movements stun a cricket and his mate. Birds squat…

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He bought his zillion-dollar megaphone,

Tiny Window

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I remember the living room heater

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His white shirt gleams

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I Must Want it. No, I Must Need It.

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She rubs her head into mine...

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The trio stuffed their grilling equipment in a battered van and left for Dixieland Speedway at 4:30 am.