THE MUSEYou owe me. Pay up. According to my accounts, you have...
CASUAL FRIENDSend lies to the people listed below....
THE AWARDS COMMITTEEThis is to notify you that--but what's the use?...
THE WISEThe world could fall to pieces with no notice....
UNCLE ALA chicken is a touchy creature....
THE OTHERSHere where we live the lines are down and the surprises build into snowbanks...
DANNYDusty Clinton Township kids making paper roosters and snowball...
SAMUEL RENSBERGER I am your grandfather's grandfather and through my wakeless sleep I dream...
OLD NEIGHBOREast across low muddy fields and behind the screening trees you can see...
THE WORM COUNCILWe call your attention to worms. Though sweeping ice age disaster...
THE HERONI flew in down by the round deep pond behind your house...
WITNESSI saw the largest moon ever rise huge bright yellow, sailing where it cared to...
BUSRIDE
We are rolling. Snow and stubble
fields all around, vision bleaker
than I can tell. There is no
horizon, only leakage towards heaven
of vapors the earth becomes.
I haven't traveled this way
in years, not since I was broke
and twenty, but this kind of riding
stays the same and I can feel myself slipping
towards fourteen years ago
each time the blackbirds
step up from corn rows
into air. Pinions clatter, cold
pinches skin delicate as grass. They carry
their hunger with them in flight . . .
Your face had the same oval
my lips make closing towards a vowel.
Its shape goes everywhere with me
thin as paper.