Spring 2018
1
It was like
palm trees in a line
outside the building
I catch my sight
by: I get it
and it goes. Girl
overtakes me
in her leopard coat.
Angora guy
sweeps up his zone.
A river
slides behind
the palms, and the sound.
I tune it all out
too, each getting
a rush in. I get
the feeling grows.
2
I take
my pill daily,
and the days go by
a curb. I leave
to cross,
now, to turn
the one-way.
Not memory:
I wear the jacket
new, hand-painted
blue. All over
it was like:
always meet
your next in fuss
-free pomade.
Few wear gloves
in warm winter.
3
He swayed
as if he had me
with his traps.
It was just down
to his face.
When I inhaled
the air of him
I felt as if
I’d only know.
He was sweet
when he talked.
His mouth closed up.
Orange pullover
and a cling job.
I came away,
not even changed
by the ripeness of his lips.
4
In that office
I saw a plant
so green it was like:
I insist. Being
nowhere else
became its own
effect. I lacked
2025