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Deathexpand_moreI played a game I called ocean, resisted my need for air.
No one asked that, changed as he was, he do more than survive.
If it were fiction, calling the place Newtown would be too much.
The dead man’s suit coat is a good fit through the shoulders.
A story about money, values, and materialism—in just six words.
Isn’t it nice to think tomorrow is a new day with no mistakes yet?
I keep waking up on the edge of the black lake. He’s on the other side.
The website said November was a good time for appreciating bark.
The rings of Saturn flash their nothing yellows, nothing blues beautiful.
Nothing was permanent, no friend I made, no math test I took.
Rise the Euphrates, my first novel, grew out of a feverish dream.
What does it take for a woman like you to decide to do something?
A wildness and all the ways I could never be classy enough for pearls.
I have wasted your childhood, photographed you too much.
Brassy bullets fell against the floral comforter like little candies.
The boys came down out of the woods and crossed toward the dock.
My students are in rows, alive—day-picked apples cut by teeth.
I was always being left behind in the mud, a bandage around my eyes.
Tomorrow I’ll be ratted out about the hunting, but I knew it’d be worth it.
The alert says Warning: Wild Exotic Animals Loose.
When I was born I saw death devour the birth of something.
Like a bird with a broken wing I will smudge the line of the hopscotch.
What would you say about the driver of the truck that killed you?
Last year alone, every American choked to death on a red balloon.
On the swings in the park, a woman sounds an off-key minor chord.
I’m touched by kindness, I declare. That anyone wants me is a miracle.
Redemption is a broken bar on a cage. Loss is a sky of stars.
On the other side of Paris an exhibit depicts their home, which is nowhere.
A week later, I said to a friend: I don’t think I could ever write about it.
Beggars know to emerge when you’ve more than enough to give.
