So few grains of happiness
measured against all the dark
and still the scales balance.

Only if I move my arm a certain way,
it comes back.
Or the way the light bends in the trees

And there it is all at once a red Russell Stover
Blimp flying north after the plane
That just took off from West Palm Beach

Afterwards, a would-be picture postcard
Near patches of water her shirt will shed

Due to formatting, this poem is best displayed as a PDF.

Yes I helped decree it.
In the white-walled
room of before with
strangers + veils.
Don’t think I don’t think
about it daily. Up here
fumigating my oriel
according to the Newer
Ordering. I feel exactly
how we got here.

I name you Miranda for the wonder
of striped wings, nighthawks that until today
I had not seen hunting since the first year

Sometimes I prefer not to untangle it.
I prefer it to remain disorganized,

because it is richer that way,

In the hospital waiting room, seated in my plastic chair,
I think about Leonard Cohen and start quietly to cry.
I’m glad no one is watching, because I can see

Obviously, it’s a category I’ve been made aware of
        from time to time.