Poems of the Week: 2021–2022
When I say I’ve seen a man die, what I mean is many and always.
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The baby won’t sleep until 2 a.m., not until he poops and throws up.
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I must be led by what was given to me as streams are led by it
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L comes over & we walk turns around the block—this is what we’re allowed.
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Better to rewrite Baudelaire: The body only exists in the dark.
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Like steps of passing ghosts, the leaves break from the trees.
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I am wet with circuitry. And I doubt I could ever save anyone.
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