March 2019

my father: sideburns down the length of his face my age now & ripe my age now & alive his husky voice’s crackle like the night’s wind through corn fields of bell-bottoms fields of pomade my mother’s overlarge sunglasses crowded...

This disease has come back
With frills and furbelows.

You must give your whole life to poetry
Only a few survive if that—

Poems I mean, paper crumpled
Shades of another water—

Far springs are what you long for,
Listening for the slow drip of chemicals

Through a...

What happened when he grabbed me at the root?
I stopped. It all stopped: spirals fought to win
My spiral life (from an unspiraled root—

From thick cigar stubbed in my young tongue’s root—
(Heart beating uncle lifetimes through my skin)).
What happened, when he...