Do they make the cut, or are they too inconvenient? What about rain? and never will, dismembering or in many different lights, Something huge and without music has just happened.
Jars of stunted-self languish there still,
in the half light. Stacked fat slices
of summer pear. Peeled, cleft and
without mouths, they kiss up
against the glass.
"It's perfectly perfect." She gives me a hard kiss, her full lips keeping our teeth from scraping, then follows up with a softer one, sneaking in her delicious tongue. Totally worth $1,200.
And my father angry at
traffic, always. Still they are driving
on the screen past midnight. Sometimes
we would arrive in the dark, my grandmother
in the kitchen waiting.
They were his wife’s hens, not his, he would tell anyone who listened. She was far too soft, mollycoddling any that became ill, lame, out-of-sorts. It made him jolly angry, if he ever thought about it too deeply or for too long, this attention that she gave them but not him.
With Joel playing Rip Van Winkle, I gave up on him. In the office, I dropped the mail on the desk. As I turned to go for a shower, my cell phone chirped. It was Ron Burkett, Kaufman’s publisher.
I mean this to say: my sons will not put their hands on people
who have not asked for their hands—like in a community pool
when a girl is fourteen and had not seen this boy since 6th grade;
Bred in the wild wild tropicanas
outcropper from fecund alleys of hortigunculturists
Hit the road jackfruit and don’t call me
pumpkin he says spitting nectar on the Konkan
I’m happy to say I have a knack for selling furnaces and water heaters. I’m practical and mastered how to calculate how many BTU’s you need for the square footage you’ve got to heat. Where hot water is concerned, that’s a function of how people are in the house.
This was in the late morning, Sun.
You threw down the heat there too.
We took the cloud of blackbirds as a sign and got moving,
but Colleen didn’t like the quiet.
