the spider climbs the spout the wheels on the bus go round Jack gets the magic beans and I say ding dong we are all scrambling out of the frying pan where dozens of eggs were broken to make incredible inedible omelets

What I recall from night is tangled in the uneasy rising of a new day. No need to fiddle in my sleep

I say it again and again and again until my fingers turn red against the sink. Because I can’t remember my body the last time it was mine.

What a miracle, We're taught The barbed wire fences, Are to be finally taken off Mottos of life, history of people Worthy Stories, worthy Men Women, are to be taken care of We're taught The summer precedes autumn Autumn precedes winters

In my dream, you ride your bike up the road and I wave goodbye. It’s okay. Everything is okay. I can let go now. But in my dream—now my nightmare—you never come back.

Each sweep of his diligence hails you though & now you’d bet he’s underpaid & the sun’s enlightened all things & you’re the street, slowly redeemed of debris.

Mom's yelling about my sister's cigarettes, boyfriends and beer again. My mom Smokes Kools and always has a can of Blatz nearby.

You empty my cup By filling Hers

No wonder, you who know history, read portents, now sleep uneasily, blades wrapped in raw leather tucked beneath your pillows. Morning lines at the whetstone, coffee and small chatter, conspiratorial whispers, a dime’s blot of oil, grinding steel on stone—

“Say sorry Mita, ju leetle sinverguenza, pendeja for estupidez! Her sharp words slice through the pineapples on the tropical wallpaper of her tiny dark kitchen scattering drops of sweet juice on my cheek and on one eyelash that dangles in front of my pupil too afraid to fall off

But this is poem and not hopeful consonance so I write ephemeral which is fleeting and ethereal which is artificial construct of the human brain

there is life happening across this world, around it, inside it at the instant tea touches your lips in the morning; you: not alone in your husk, it is happening, right now, you, me, separated by our skins

He takes me to a bed where there is no rest I rattle with him His moans overpower the sirens of the street and shakes his body in a variety of motions

Wall after wall, cave after cave, many armed, many legged, many headed desire dances its heart out. Liberated by the im- measurable devotion of anonymous hands.

the love you feel when a baby is first born the night he left for college (the morning he returned but only because he forgot his hat)

I tremble in a flower’s vocabulary— retract my hands like from a hot sky or suddenness dreams which pass through my body are no different from hands

You don’t see her,  hair like wings ephemeral catching fire from Florida sun, wire fences no match for birds taking flight unnaturally.

The night locked and cellular, the landscape grows increasingly perplexed at the Color aspects of American democracy,

There are plenty of seats on the summit. You can see the dark clouds amassing from miles away. I had a big wedding. I’ve stood beneath a waterfall.

I imagined her soul, slipping into muted sleep, slowing its swirl, dimming its spectrum of colors - until like a photo, darkening to monochrome, she would become the very depth and quiet of her own shadow. Fire slowly dims, coal blackens, into night.

Prisoners could enroll in college courses and some even taught. The people of Alabama often formed remarkable friendships with the prisoners and gave them many gifts, as well as invitations to their homes for a meal. After the war, many Germans brought their families to vacation in the South and to introduce them to their southern friends. These friendships lasted for decades.

The thing about a lake is the crazy men who fish there, in the copper- hearted flow where cold springs and greasy seaweed gather. Shimmer.  Buckle.  Fish bodies writhe beneath, more life always where one can’t reach. More life always where watching is not allowed.