Spring 2010
The damn dog has been brainwashed. He doesn’t know
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us anymore.
We ate and then made love, the windows open to deafening twilight.
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I will tell you about the sick. They are ruthless, they are like Attila.
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Below, the kiss silently maneuvers our bodies closer to the rose bed.
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You know you’re in trouble; finally someone is gonna let you have it.
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On the anniversary of your death, a memory sharpens, as if illuminated.
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The lot was well maintained, with all the biodiversity of a golf course.
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