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
Blacktop Passages 