Ants
Sometimes you’ll see one
far from any yard, maybe
on a bookshelf, Barnes
& Noble—third floor
of the mall—or somehow
whipping across town
with you in your car.
Sometimes you’ll see one
far from any yard, maybe
on a bookshelf, Barnes
& Noble—third floor
of the mall—or somehow
whipping across town
with you in your car.
Oh, right. About the boy from the sky
He fell, unexpectedly, feet first into the pool
Which is a silly thing to think
A boy with enough composure …
My son looks up from drawing plants with teeth,
says, “You’re long-gone when we’re at Dad’s,” then tries
to find a better green. I think I’ll weep,
or maybe raise my hand and give him five.
Lovers come best together when they come
undone, empty-handed, rendered dumb,
come down to their last card, a turning
way past desperation and cleaner burning.
Because he was already dying, he figured
there was no harm in huffing through 2 or 3 cigarettes
in the early morning before my mother would wake—
the animal of his thin, brown body lassoed
to an oxygen tank.
My husband likes to say that love is blind,
and little flaws are meant to be forgot.
This morning while washing out my thong
I checked his phone for texts, all is not fine