Apr 20, 2013


 How to abide the high-school
graphite sky?

To not think of death
in autumn—ogle the puck

of frozen pesto, the withered
cornhusk plait in the crisper,

the kite strings tangled
in the fins of an electric fan;

give up.  The names of death
outnumber the names of desire;

yours is among them, a special
disease to be dead of, a hardening

of the mouth followed by fever-dreams
& then the body wrapping around

itself like a knot tying a chopstick
to a dagger.

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