which one of us did loneliness hear coming?
the future
the past
both are ready
to talk
one can only write so long
about loss
in pencil
find my house,
dog-on-fire
I don’t take good care of things.
I can’t even give you
examples.
does nothing
in hell
but draw
the insomniac
the conductor
of the sleepwalker’s
train
the centipede
a sort of
wrecked
spider
bunny-eared
watersnakes…
god
took all
my mom’s
ideas
i.
amnesia
the perfume
of a dead
ghost
ii.
sleepwalkers
for a more
christ-like
hand signal
iii.
blue hound at a pilot’s grave
I don’t know why it is that this thing in my father merely comes loose when in me it disappears, but am grateful that my mother can hear him getting ready for church no matter the rattling of my hunger at the weepy shapelessness of spoons.
it does what it can
the world
to belong.
I saw a wheelchair
chase
an ambulance.
babies don’t know
they can’t be
alone.
we peopled this.
grief
has a swimmer’s
stomach
kingsoftrain 