STEREO GONE
To smell the grass as the prisoner knew more days
Would or would not change
Flat faces and blank checks no slim glass
How little I have thought
Light will not flame when I hold a match
To it even if I chant
Something other than my fantasies will turn out
Today my daughter shouted to where
A mourning dove nested on her window ledge
When the mother flew away we saw two eggs
I wonder what Lao Tzu would say
Or would have once before my brother rotted
Somehow though still with all his teeth
He is not my brother my brother
Would have withstood winter’s light
Internal blankets
I mean blankets where our minds turn
What happens toward shape
My brother the prisoner knew how to do that once
Or once my brother happy genius I heard
Coming down in the basement at five AM
Only then I thought his laughing like God laughing like birds laughing
REQUIEM FOR EVERYTHING
Try I tell myself not to impose a narrative
Where I cannot see when Katy looks in the mirror
Our first plan belongs to the universe
Our daughter protests for eggs her feet
Tiny hearted bird claws
Our second plan belongs to marriage
To blood in circles like the moon
Living in the open parts of plants
I mean to talk about something else not the story again
No matter to tell a daughter who laughs out the window’s mouth
Talking to Katy like trying to count the air’s skin
Repetition cranks the cry out of