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The horse had been beaten and flies crawled on the beat marks.

End of October, days recede quickly into night. Leaves fall in slow motion.

There was no sense in brushing off or any other civilized thing.

We take our solace, in a time of malaise and mourning, in the close-at-hand.

Life, then, was song and purple font, imagining in words a future.

The hawk moves out of the way to let a little hot package of breath rise up.

“We see you tryin’ to hide. Ain’t no use tryin’ to hide in God’s House.”

Have two children to keep around the house in case one goes missing.

“I’d like to talk to C about her personal statement,” Blattman said.

I can see on him how things are changing for and against us.

So that’s what I’d look like if every beauty parlor in the world shut down.

A boy watching another boy lucky gets an ache. That is a small motor.

When he had passed from view, I stumbled back from the window.

My bike, my skinny body, my pent breath was thrown to the grass.

I was convinced she’d be back in the morning, like the sun.

When he was a child, my father had a cousin who was buried by a plow.

I’ll see you on the sea, they say, but then they float past on a raft

Identify where you came from, where you are, and where you wish to go.

Mostly he was in a hurry, so he’d just stick it in and away we’d go.

We’ve seen the news. We know the story. How even our bodies hurt us.

When you are sixteen and sixty-five pounds, you are all shadows.

It is our first time, both of ours. This sentence ends with hate myself.

If everyone’s lost on the roads, you might as well fly. Enjoy your life.

The first time I met you I fought your father in the driveway.

We are like a village here, separated from the rest of the world.

I want to cut loose from her each wistful sigh I hear escape her lips.

The problem with my mother is that she thinks everyone a fool.

Her name sprang to my lips in strange prayers and praises.

Women should hate it when people whistle at their backs as they walk past.