Humans are the animals
with speech who let all of his manuscripts
go poof.

He’d like to be at one with his new self
but memories sit in him like eyes.

My mind went on composing its account at night,
I could hear it tracing glyphs on the hard substance

Outside the funeral of the politician who died young
I waited for you. Rolled in my hand like a baton

were tissues from the mourners inside

Thorn teeth gnaw white bread and ketchup.
Instant audition on my haunches; her sack cheeks
turning away. Hands tacky on the cup.

Strangers come to caretake and her tongue
lies large and quiet in its crook.
Across the street black tin wardrobes and twin

Shall I come to see
plum blossoms in every stream
and wet my sleeves

All love is merely fear of apprehension.
You love the antic magician but fear his wand.
You ate an apple contrary to instruction.

A baby’s head is fragile, 
                       pale as an egg and thin. 
Hit the brakes 

In 1981 
          in a hotel gift shop outside Phoenix, AZ, 
a little girl stood by the postcard rack, turning it gently.