Burying Ground

June nights my mother worked the yard, pruning American Beauties, dead-heading petunias, the gummy velvet of spent petals on her fingers. Tom Seaver blows her a kiss from the t.v. on the patio. She watches…

That Chocolate Cake

I enter through a hole in the metal fence, hold thin to skim the rippers. Beyond the woods, the golf course   where I rescue stray balls from the driving range. I pocket the ones…

Washing Dishes in Evergreen, Colorado

Bernie holds the chopping knife, tip up, glares at Billie. She’s come to the kitchen to ask him to leave the cheese off a burger. It’s not her fault. She put the order in right,…

My Neighbor Shot My Cat

The woman down the road nails to a tree a sign made from a cardboard box – My Neighbor Shot My Cat.   Her rough billboard sells nothing, no eggs for sale, fresh-picked corn, pick-up…

End Of the World (for Ilya Kaminsky)

(for Ilya Kaminsky) Caved and constipated, a bear lies on muck, hair fused with mud. Trees iced in sleep are relieved of urgent sap. Everything needs rest.   When this world ends, need will evaporate…

What the Body Carries

Delicious tushy. That’s what you had. The grandmas couldn’t get enough. Your thighs too – a fistful of pulkies, chubby chicken legs. Your tush is now a butt, delicious still but I don’t say a…

At the Corner of 110th and Broadway

(for Laure-Anne Bosselaar)   They wear blue latex gloves, the people in blue uniform. Six cops. That’s what it takes to subdue one woman, limping with a rotten hip,  pork chops in her blouse –…

A Constellation Maps Its Interior

Falling, it forgets the dark, wanders to remember its place in the sky, how it slowdanced across evening’s floor. A lunar slip vows to brush up against its ankles, but now other stars shine out,…