You have to remember the Aspen grove;

the white stalks of trees, their stuttering leaves–

the descending quiet. Vesper sparrows.

No one beside you; no one behind you.

But you hear footsteps, don’t you?


Don’t you? The white stalks, the stuttering leaves

brush your thin wrists–you turn and turn,

no one behind you, no one beside you.

The forest ascends and breaks around you,

above you. The soft underbark. Verdant.


The serrated leaves scar your finger tips,

scrape at soft you inthewhitetiletub–

The forest ascends and breaks around you;

black-white/black-white …

every you, every us

Think remember map our
every you every us every night every darkness
lay fear down
lay in sadness
carry this acre
taken from a map

Condominium Song #3

Steve speaks slowly, and because he is the 
Housing Association President,
he also speaks in detail, willing nothing
be missed or wrong. He is old so events
take on …


Our contract was balletic—
you took from me the rabbits spooked

inside their still damp nest.
Then, you were a room

I lived through entirely. Snowed in
all the way …

on alchemy

Never much good at judging distances
or my own physical strength, I imagine
this morning that I could swim across
the Mississippi, be in Illinois by lunch.

I can see it …