When my father saw his first moon, he surely believed it
and himself untouchable; now we know nothing is.
All his rooms were vacant and he knew
loneliness was a kind of providence.
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My Pronoun
I say I and a small mosquito drinks from my tongue but many say we and hear I say you or he andhear I Already have an account? Log in […]
Post-Game-Day Blessing
Bless the black G-string, abandoned on the sidewalk beside a green gingko sapling on Lee Street. Bless the girl who shimmied out of it before dawn, drunk on Curaçao or […]
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