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I tell my sister what I didn’t tell my father, I love you. Please, don’t die.

I saw a bat in a dream and then later that week I saw a real bat.

I know which home takes the turning, which mind washes in hot water.

Art, like writing, is an invitation to be surprised, to be open to revelation.

My mother’s house was packed, painted, put up for sale—sold.

They cut you off, let fall your hammered silver bracelets to the sand.

Help me, please help me, is the beggar’s refrain on the F train today.

Now he chuckles with the sea, stitched within its timeless jive.

Yes, Eylon thought, he lied to Cath. Lied about his day, about the risks.

He has his hands on Nii’s throat, and this time I do not stop them.

When she gets to Lenny’s he offers her a beer and a bong hit...

Let me remember there’s a door inside each flower.

Definitely believe what you hear about the problems with painkillers.

The first murder had been a half dozen years ago in a warmer city.

Exit the building. Say nothing to anyone. They did. And they didn’t.

There lay before us a bag that gave forth, at a touch, the jingle of gold.

A dead body leaned sideways against a wall. Its eyes were open.

Ajax can answer all this killing only with the killing of himself.

Let him search, Tricia thought, who knew what he might discover.

He was alongside without preamble. Elephants are not stealthy by nature.

“The doors are closed,” she said, and we would not be flying to Paris.

Neither fame nor wealth could provide consolation for life’s brevity.

She wears her nakedness like it has been woven from air.

One day, we will all turn into choir girls—all soft and hollow inside.

I try to believe that even when cords are cut or people die we connect.

A car curved left, leapt the curb, and came at us like the line of a bullet.

Dan Gerber reads poems of boyhood, and from the end of his mother’s life.

I want to sleep in a bed next to a man who won’t dream of me all night.

We did not know at the moment of parting that it was a parting.