I Imitatea Memory Of Beliefthat I Do

Be Careful Of Words, / ... They Can Be Both Daisies And Bruises.

Women Tell Time By The Body. They Are Like Clocks. They Are Always Fastened To The Earth, Listening For Its Small Animal Noises.

Now I Am Going Back And I Have Ripped My Hand From Your Hand As I Said I Would And I Have Made It This Far.

The Grass As Bristly And Stout As Chives And Me Wondering When The Ground Will Break And Me Wondering How Anything Fragile Survives

With This Pen I Take In Hand My Selves And With These Dead Disciples I Will Grapple. Though Rain Curses The Window Let The Poem Be Made.