his eyes the pink of quartz, / his smell the scent of sound
The world's a booby-trap! / We're caught in a prank of cartoon proportions
If I am not in the vastness of this sleep-country who is?
letting myself go / like a yolkth
as ordinary as the planets moving / as living as flowers in a vase / as grand as learning your own
Safety doesn’t grow on our tongues, / is only an infected piercing / handed down to our children.
I’m looking past where the water / meets the sky I mean I’m trying / to name the bigger light.
If communication is not your strong suit / Then try again / Try harder
Only two of my students remember peacetime, most don’t remember / 9/11; she’s like, “I was five..
I know I will be 30 in two months / because the Parks Concierge is jaywalking.
When I woke again // I looked and looked / as into an infinite series
We will still enter beneath the arc— / And get caught pretending about life
your baby pigeon is out in the world