He is waiting for the story to begin:
a road through the meadows, a ship’s light, all those
signals in the grass he has to learn

The mice are back;
                             I leave them
crusts and pine nuts

Never had a loaded, blue-black handgun
in my house, except for 1981,

You’ve seen my tibia and fibula?
I used to take my friends to visit them
each year at the museum, septic and safe,

A naked woman rides a naked man
and vamps, and moans, and both pretend to mount
the summit of desire, although in these

Come fast over a hill
can’t slow or swerve
before it's broken

his Jesus stole from us the face of God.
We saw only the back he had turned to us
as if no love had rolled away the stone.

The forecast calls for heavy snow again.
The graveyard shift over at Lover’s Leap,
Kill and Evisceration, need not come in.

Somebody is always expecting you home.
Somebody’s saying you’ve been gone too long
and stayed too late, and no good can come of it.

Your eyes show peace, discord
is foreign to your lips;
most necessary motion