from SEED CATALOGUE (1995)

September 1, 2014 § Leave a comment

wanting not to kill

the snail who gorges on

my succulents


the green apple

on the counter



in the heat flies

peel away from the shade

on the wall


no words come

pulsing in chambers

the meat dance


back to No. 2

a scattered symposium

of light


sweet gum fruit

heaped in the gutter

will work for food


sun bathing next to

the freeway something

bites my leg


the shadows of three

geese slide down

the side of the hospital


standing on phone

books for the proper angle

a map of the world


I am the water in the wave of the air


the house darkens into

the rain I hold her



high pitched whine

the smell of damp soil from

the potted ivy




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