Sonnet
Each evening we climb a slightly higher hill, look down again into the city’s basin, say This is the view. […]
He was teaching his students the parts of a plow while reading the Georgics in Latin: a learned poem
Love, Love, Love, where are we now? Where did we begin? I think one of us wanted to name this,
True love is an agreement to turn out the lights, stoke the fire, sink down in the couch— arms and
Adorno says fuck form and I for one believe him; he was smarter than you and me: knew before us
“If I’m gonna die, you’re gonna die with me.” Words waved by Lashanda Armstrong through her van before she drives