Dear Aleph,
Like Ovid: I'll have no last words.
This is what it means to die among barbarians. Bar bar bar
was how the Greeks heard our speech —
...
In the rearview, fog extinguishes the hills of new
money—mansions on acres away from road or sight.
Their architected privacy, windows to look out at
a land that won't look back. The fog's secure drapery.
...
your face turning from mine
to keep from cumming
8 strawberries in a wet blue bowl
...
this mangy plot where
by now
only mothers still come,
...