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Look she said this is not the distance we wanted to stay at—We wanted to get close, very close. But what is the way in again? And is it too late? She could hear the actions rushing past—but they are on another track. And in the silence or whatever it is that follows them there…

My father likes them hot and grows every variety known to burn the worst. Jalepenos hang in clusters like green bananas down the rows we are walking, our arms full of bread bags. Picking so many of them finally that our fingers sting and our eyes fill with water. “The little yellow ones with the…

The season turns. The trees wound the streets. We too want to be touched. We press a scab to feel the pain. Or tongue that place in the mind which yields a death. Last week, your grandfather. The old coot, 95 and every relative furious and mute by the time he was sixty. So you…

Since I've lived in many places, it's odd That I continue to waken in Nebraska, Wandering into the sunroom where the wheat Has come up wide overnight. A girl leans Into the wind and it is I. Every day, it seems as though the poets thin; Rare breed. Of the people who have loved me,…

Here comes the hunger for the made thing. For what the      sea can't clean further. Here it comes buzzing after a stillness rust can't corrupt nor the secret blue moss under the hill. Don't look back that way, friend, at the      not-yet- knotted string—the gorgeous sweep of it the back of things keeps feeding into…

High summer. I lead you to the woods to what must have been a lawn beside the ruins of what was someone's house. Here we lay our things; the blanket, the champagne, the prophylactics. The day so warm and you are beautiful and we don't know what we're doing. Beautiful and perfect, hair loosed as…

and I have five. Surrounded by them, I was manless for years. You led me to kindergarten. In the back alleys of our housing project, in the winter halflight, no neighborhood kid could come between us. At home you called my faults like foul plays: “Error.” This is the walled city, family. Within, all the…

In thrice 10,000 seasons, I will come back to this world In a white cotton dress. Kingdom of After My Own Heart. Kingdom of Fragile. Kingdom of Dwarves. When I      come home, Teacups will quiver in their Dresden saucers, pentatonic      chimes Will move in wind. A covey of alley cats will swarm on the      side…

I was talking about mutual responsibility; you had been interested in my analysis of the problems of dual control in driving lessons; having control when you had none, I said, “Remember that I am saying all this and that I am taking full responsibility for saying this,” and poured my heart out to you. That…