To burrow

Is it dating

if you no longer go out

but burrow instead

inward

like the tin of Thanksgiving pie that collapsed

in our fridge three weeks ago.

We both thought nobody noticed.

The Purity Of Hate

To flag a concern, to be judging,
to even have to consider that
and the stakes and rupture,
to think, well, neither of us
can come back from this now.

Two boats, four arms,
and an attempt to push
each other at the same time,
and maybe the timing's great
and something graceful will pass.

Here then I sense that
we are post-push -
one is just spinning aimlessly
and the other has pushed too hard,
is leaning over and trying
to fall back in their seat.

9G

I remember writing poems
Driving my mom's plumsilver Saturn
Building them line by line
Cycling back and repeating the words
Til I could write them down
Downshifting as I approached town
The leaking moonroof,
The mildewed carpets
Air full of words
And a throat/heart swelling with seriousness
Some kind of righteous love that fades faster
Than fabrics left in sunlight

Mosi

we giggle back and forth
mimicking the noises coming from one another's mouth
you kick your legs
and flail your little arms
a sudden burst of energy
are you looking at me or my shadow?
is that a smile or skepticism?
is that a frown, a deep thought,
or a poop?

HOW TO SAY

Jesse cuts mango

he’s sad the warehouse

has been leveled:

now the snow man can widen

his ice cream parking lot

now cry for my uncle

now eat fruit in bed

yellow from another place

in the morning

the empty plate will laugh

Andrea kisses her dog

like a clock

now write letters 

to the dying –

the family is a house,

a bulletin board, a cupboard

(symphonies, cynicism 

also air and salt and trees)

gestures, gasps

shining leaves

clogging the drain