me, lying on the concrete, not even meeting your eyes you, sitting crossed-legged with a half-smile on your lips him, falling off the longboard and laughing for an empty ballroom me, catching the peeling smiles from his skin and

Learning to let go We are rich in last days Call it practiceHard at first to stomachOvernightsVisits from distant friendsVacationsPetsSummer campEarly onWe can carry on, cryTake weeks to recoverLater there are School, weekendsRomancesLast performances of choirs, dance troupes, playsLast days of

I learned the word broken in the middle of the night. Your back was against my chest, naked, your glasses discarded (groped for in the morning,) your ear to the bed. You were all good hearing, you heard it

aspirate. fizzle the “s.” sidestep a first kiss. sidestep last. west coast swing dance, pretzel in saddle shoes, hopscotch, stagger, oscillate on offbeat toes, forget how it goes. graduation. June, July, August.  intermission, flings before last vanishings, …that’s it—soft satin Tuesday, swirl skirt, someone

On the painting by Vincent van Gogh The trees are aflame.The stars are ablaze.The moon swirls as it dances through the night.The Milky Way curlsin light waves breaking on the shores of the far horizon.The steeple, the people in their homesalight

Tiny plastic robot, lit from insideby the dim glow of twin LEDsbehind blank eyes, its stickered decalsalready peeling away – meaningless arrays, dials fixed at ten,gapless grilles of imitation steel,Clipart screws holding nothingtight to nothing – the only textures

I often hike the west ridge of White Oak Canyon alone, though everyone says I shouldn’t. By the slow push of wind and rain, that slope of stones is the only way nowto reach the upper falls,where decades ago we’d make love for hours to the