Abrupt As a Skidmark
Constellations
No one retrieves the dead
this winter: there’s a cat
along Market Street, iced Continue reading
You go outside to get inside.
I went to inspect Iowa
and uncover her consolation.
I found her gold
fields cut and stumbled
in her stubble, her dark furrows Continue reading
Adopt a Highway
Cans, bottles, plastic bags,
bras, panties, socks, boots and shoes,
tires, magazines, newspapers,
inhalers, pill bottles, condoms, Continue reading
One More Town Too Far
Then I worked for an old lady in El Paso
took down her storms put up her screens
painted her fence
she kept finding new jobs
said I resembled the boy she’d lost
insisted I sleep in his bed
the walls covered with posters
X-Men The Gladiator Kate Moss
clippings about boxing matches Continue reading
Ghost Towns
There are 568 miles between Sacramento and Las Vegas. Google Maps tells me if I don’t hit any traffic, I can expect to make the trip in 9 hours and 3 minutes. I pack an overnight bag, throw my checkbook in, and yank the zipper up. I leave a dish of kibble for the cat. At the gas station where I fill my tank, I buy a large black coffee and a candy bar. It is one p.m., six hours since I received Sean’s call, when I head east on the 80. Continue reading
Crime Scene
All night she watched
the sky bloom with stars.
Now it is morning.
Purple lilies, orange sunrise,
yellow sun. Continue reading
