#1
These humanitarians give me
pause.
Are they just the
cannibal cousins
of those vegetarians?
#3
I have spent the afternoon
toying around with words
on the living room floor,
while you were checking the thesaurus
for another word for
“hyperventilate.”
#5
In this concrete channel
the water runs rushing and continuous,
fringed with nodding reeds,
like some urban Nile,
like some misplaced desert watercourse.
#6
While you were bent over your pedals,
puffing and furious over
the stoplights
the traffic
the humidity
Hafiz and God and I were riding on your handlebars,
shouting with lovedrunk joy -
“Look at this gorgeous weather we’re having!”
#8
God has left you a trail of loveletters,
dotted like crumbs in a forest:
the crumpled grocery receipt
the bitter coffee dregs
the napping baby
the bus you just missed!
What do you mean you didn’t get them?
They were mailed to the corner hearth
of your heart’s loveliest chamber.
Once you find them between your couch cushions,
please don’t stamp Return to Sender!
#9
When I noticed my breathing
and felt my heart beating
and opened my eyes
- slowly! -
and actually look a look?
I felt your warm presence near me, saying
“Hello Again, Little One.”
#11
Dear Bathsheba -
I understand in some way
the desire for evening nudity in the out-of-doors.
I remember squatting in the moonlight
of a roofless latrine,
my bowels and heart singing that
Final Great Hymn of the Night.
#12
We’re all screwed when the Internet
runs out.
I don’t even own a dictionary any more!
