The High Chasm & the Drop Ceiling
Her voice has
captured the world
humming
as he drove
am waiting for
you at the marina
I don’t really see this
turning out well
let the coyotes die
as I name them
I saw the driver
of the getaway car
take my shoes off
walk the creek
I turn into a fish
an auspicious deadline
would type a letter
before breakfast
throathouse fiddle
and peachtree root
tonight I feel
televised
studio backlot
regimental sparrow
Let the Candidate Finish
Chants we chanted
and began building
thriving bass
from a passing car
closes the door
television she left on
cold pigeons more
this year than last
cruise ship austere
above leaves
driving along
sunset is frying
end in elderly jackpot
the many meadow
everyone in
the local hospital
the giant shouts
into a microphone
the heavy
chair of insomnia
the jet picks me up
at my dad’s place
the moon makes
its chalk outline
The Train Runs Late Through My Arms
Oranges ripen
beside the grudge match
although I have not
yet been born
aluminum this
our small capital
a loyalty program
until I lost my home
astride though bright decay
at night
my shadow
is your shadow
before the appetizers
have even arrived
blind I did
love the burn
swim out into
the gutter and glisten
that and the trees
and old billboard
that spring
with the scarred hand
the dog coming
in from the rain