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Having a sister or a friend is like sitting at night in a lighted house.

Relief workers tore swaths of insulation from the rafters of the house.

Doctor Dressler left her a note: Suicide. Back by 7:00. Love, Max.

Is it that he is too tired or too afraid to blink into the oil of his own machine?

I sometimes have to laugh because even now, as a middle-aged man.

She wants something red and shiny that always works.

I arrange your five deflating basketballs under the lonely net.

Dance with you? I said after a moment. That’s your dare?

For days after she left him, he roamed the house, unable to function.

I eat what’s in front of me, as all great men do. Some wouldn’t, but I do.

A man drunk on the damage he made to a boy’s young mouth.

Warm breath in my ear mouthing a name; rivulet folded back in water.

In its shadow, our mislaid secrets cascade down around us.

& I said let there be dark pouring from your mouth at daybreak

She was gone then, inaudible, steeple-reticent, demure as sky.

He was reading Our Town. She studied the departure board.

You are with outsized footnotes that have tracked across the Internet.

“Jesus Christ,” Dad said, after the counselor spelled it out for him.

I have many dreams, I say. In my dreams I am better than myself.

He’s gonna change the way we farm around here. Make it more like India.

The one who sold me a smuggled gun sold me smuggled bullets.

Loss. That word echoed in my ears as my eyes ranged around the garden.

Our neighbors the Bells are watching, watching us when we play outside.

In the garden this morning, I thought for a moment I saw T’ao Ch’ien.

“Out to lunch,” she learns from an older colleague, is a euphemism.

The architect is twice my age and owns an ivy-covered house.

The sedan clipped their front bumper and pitched Bill’s car into a slide.

Mom often went to work on her days off. The library was her refuge.

The stories of terror continued well after the tsunami had passed.