How have these ligaments
held, for their umbones, each life’s intention
of never letting go?
You have to get ready
for a more complicated life.
You have to tell him the simple things
don’t know how to put their round heads together.
The way the lightning-split
willow was tugged,
wandy and half still alive,
It refused to uncork.
From the table I selected a Big Book:
“The more hopeless he feels, the better.”
Be careful, said the bottle miner,
Don’t let the dirt out —
It holds her eyes in place.
for M.H. Friend, remember how you showed us beasts love beauty?We were wading in your lake with bluegills and you said,Be careful, you will lose your beauty marks . To … Continue reading
The child I left your class to have Later had a habit of sleeping With her arms around a globeShe’d unscrewed, dropped, and dented.I always felt she could possess it, The pink countries and the … Continue reading