When they say Don't I know you?
say no.
...
There was the method of kneeling,
a fine method, if you lived in a country
where stones were smooth.
...
We made it from the ground-up corn in the old back pasture.
Pinched a scent of night jasmine billowing off the fence,
popped it right in.
That frog song wanting nothing but echo?
...
A boy told me
if he roller-skated fast enough
his loneliness couldn't catch up to him,
...
Every few minutes, he wants
to march the trail of flattened rye grass
back to the house of muttering
hens. He too could make
...
It is difficult to know what to do with so much happiness.
With sadness there is something to rub against,
a wound to tend with lotion and cloth.
...
Some nights
the rat with pointed teeth
makes his long way back
to the bowl of peaches.
...
What can a yellow glove mean in a world of motorcars and governments?
I was small, like everyone. Life was a string of precautions: Don’t kiss the squirrel before you bury him, don’t suck candy, pop balloons, drop watermelons, watch TV.
...
My brother, in his small white bed,
held one end.
I tugged the other
to signal I was still awake.
...