let us sit under our words, a many-
ringed tree, bodies drunk on lost
time, listening to delicate leaves
Ok, I no longer want them,
the many selves I had to manage
that exhausted everyone.
It’s the last time, I swear, except this time I mean it. The last time I mourn Kate so hard I don’t eat, unless you consider alcohol a meal. The last time I drive drunk the five miles to Chuck’s house, at midnight, despondent, disheveled, swigging Stoli…
A child is something else again. Wakes up
in the afternoon and in an instant he’s full of words,
in an instant he’s humming, in an instant warm,
instant light, instant darkness.
The United States needs to rise to its full moral and spiritual height and lead the world to sanity and survival.