Look at us now with our bludgeoned
hands held like empty weapons to the stars.
Finished ironing, I emptied extra water onto
cement, reluctant to climb stairs back into
Every time it rains, the foxes pull apart
with their claws a rainbow and commence
a procession through it, walking on
all fours to the town square for a wedding.
If one / could slough pain, let wind come.
Glory the day my father takes me to the river to watch the stadium implode into a ghost of dust.
We were always told that Nana and Grandpa Joe eloped / when she was only 17, though she’d been promised / to Frank Capra’s brother.
I love you where yellow bends.
Instead of wallowing // in animal glory like all the world’s a watering hole, / the subject has instead learned to feel alone