The Double Image Redux
Turn the photo of your mother in its frame
so she can’t tsk her tongue against her teeth:
the cold eyes will follow you just the same—
a trick of perspective like Mona Lisa’s gaze.
Summer Job
At the end of the work day
you could tell exactly how far you had gotten
and how much farther you had to go.
Zombies in Paradise
Today they’re recruiting for the Corps of the Undead;
in fetid cubicles they anticipate more dead.
My Brother Buries His Dog
He moves furniture for a living, oversized bureaus and beds for the rich. He is big now and dumb with love that animals sense—cats, dogs, squirrels, birds, his pygmy turtles and rabbits, tree frogs—they all take him in, nuzzle his childhood scars, forgive his bad jobs and girlfriends.
Disaster Wireless
broadcast from the village loudspeakers, far away, like a scratchy 1940s radio. a language for bees or aliens. the nashi in the village orchards are coming into their sweetness.
Exodus 15:21
There are pages of home
work left open on the table.
The way there are plenty
of leftovers in the fridge.
Here I am left on the fringes.