I ignore the kids’ slinky arms. The dishes. They daddy.

Dear Citizens,
We live upon the past and day

I live dead center in the Tygart River
Valley,

u glitter w/ stones
this is why ppl inevitably

in what language should I speak to you, sun

Can memory be a worry?
I suspect it works

I’m sick of fighting currents, toxic with our need

it seems like only yesterday I crafted the poem
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It’s the logic of applause
       

Off with your finger she says to no one, then lops off a

But in his eyes the shapeless vicious scene
Composed

When I was my grandmother’s mother I knew
she

To and for B-Dragon, home is an idiom.

Summer is a pure lone mountain.

Behind eternity isn’t
more eternity. Nothing
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I know fear
as this dark curl

Fingertips smell like a promise—
Ten thousand graves sigh

A reminiscence must be,
necessarily, as long as the

Here in the body museum,
women speaking Hungarian

I go to those places of the other world.
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