With a whiff of plums, I wake
covered by George Washington's fatigues;
submerged in cherry blossoms,
unwanted sex.
...
Be a dear, would you,
and pass an old lady her gin.
I'm tired of men, of old age and sin…
...
I dreamt of standing
on a balcony, watching
myself jump, and then...
...
Tiger lilies squat—
garish, blazingly unbound…
wishes, a heavy
...
Shrink, kindness. The energy changes.
I'm sweating. I never sweat. Meek lovers
avert eyes, turn heads into shoulders.
...
Many horses: propulsive river embanked
by languid anguish. Trust it, erosion—
forceful meshing of mud and medicine.
...
Hold on a tick, while I lick
my fingers, mother. No need for your voice
to carry—or let it whirl if you will. Let it be
shrill; stick a needle in a cloud
...
Look at how I squander you on the periphery of ideal—
advocating philosophies I’ve forgotten how to feel.
Once a sage said to me, “We sing about what we need most—
...