The horse had been beaten and flies crawled on the beat marks.
A gravely ill man was waiting for me in a village ten miles distant.
The dog glares back at Roger, his eyes on fire, but he doesn’t let her go.
There was no sense in brushing off or any other civilized thing.
For my vacation last summer, I visited the Bateer family in Xiwuqi.
I sometimes forget I’m a horse. I’m also a man dressed as a horse.
I want to focus on bears. On knowing them, and on what they need.
The hawk moves out of the way to let a little hot package of breath rise up.
Tongue, eye, nose—which has the shortest route to the brain, heart?
Some inner voice told her that now or never her fate would be decided.
After breakfast I set out to see what my wild neighbors have been up to.
The animals are dying. All the beautiful women are dying too.
Since I am in my seventies, it is now or never, and I know it.
All night the insects’ grinding jaws chewed through the darkness.
He tuned the future backward as he left the ringing water to reclaim me.
If he’d had that seat belt on, he would have been pinned inside.
Always I obliged the urban tree, any speechless unblessed nature.
…when you walk to the edge of the Mekong and make a wish…
The hound, the leash, the fence, the hens. So many of them.
Snows piling in his crying mouth. Cold gave him a light complexion.
Karen was, in that moment, nothing, emptiness. She was oblivion.
I let the baby mouse live because I cannot kill what has ears.
“Even though we aren’t carrying out the deed, we are the most responsible.”
I want to cut loose from her each wistful sigh I hear escape her lips.
The highway hot with possibility, a new herd expected every five miles.
The girl marched directly up to me, glaring, and said, “You hit my dog.”
do you asks pretty sue know what I love what pretty please tell us
He’s weirdly hard to pay attention to, even when he’s threatening you.
Sleepy and pensive, July succumbed to the day’s isolating heat.
We imagined the train routes through the heart of the country.