So a few weeks before that Christmas, I decided to do some detective work. I was interested in science and generally curious ...

We walk to the edge of the continent / and there in the sand I turn to her and say, / look,
this is where I buried myself 

So on this X-mas eve. There I was. Sitting in the basement. On an old blue sectional couch. Alone

They sat on the grassy bank, clothes clinging to their wet bodies, watching the river flow. A few raindrops splashed on the surface, tiny dimples rushed away downstream. Neither of them bothered to point out that it was going to rain.

 Most nights we stayed behind, Tweety Bird / pajama shirts stretched over our knees, waist-length hair soaking / our backs as we sat on the floor and thumbed glossy 10mm prints.

I stopped drawing stars on my student’s papers. Stars are dying suns shouting out “goodbye!” as they disappear. Why should that signify goodness?

I discovered distant Facebook friends—dead from

Confessions don’t make good stories. 

 It doesn't take much for a curve to become a coil, for a bridge to become a cage.

I’m going out
to snag a man. 

I was at a party for the end of the world. I came so I wouldn’t be alone. I guess so did all the other women. They must have known there’d be no men at this party because they wore beautiful

my parents taught me to say ‘surrender’
in a dozen foreign languages.

We were listening to the bombing over the radio while my mother drove me to confirmation class that night.  The radio said We as if America was a bunch of siblings who once shared a bed together.

I could take my hands off. Just unlock them at the wrists, snap them off like the heads of artificial flowers. As long as my mouth’s working him, up down up down, he wouldn’t notice if I had no

That winter my mother takes me to her country, a little place on the equator I had not yet seen.

the night of the attack

mother did you hear them
they had tongues like lightning
and forked through the forest
shooting the heads off sparrows.

mother did you see their
bonfires

The man keeps thinking about the power lines—the ones that are strung over his house.

Sometimes at night, he can hear them up there, buzzing.

It's hard to sleep with all the

I don't like most people. And have been jealous of Bud for ages. With reason.

Subtraction, division,

rabbit bones, rabbit lives

They never seemed to notice me, not even when I rolled up my uniform skirt, like the other girls did, and walked the stairs in front of them.

sometimes i wake up in empty fields, waiting for the aliens to take me. they haven’t yet,  but any day now, i’m sure.

I’m in the parking lot, I’ve got Sarah’s prescription, Sarah’s my wife, and I see him.

Osama bin Laden.

“Violent dog,” I said, passing the leash to Karen.

“Just toothy,” Karen said, blotting her knuckle with gauze.  “He’ll live alone.”

We went to the college up north to get away from our families, but we didn’t leave behind our need for something like a domestic bond. 

And somehow I’m supposed to get dressed in the morning / when most days arrive like a gold chain tangled in black chest hair.

Aaina’s mom collects shiny things like a magpie. The one time Aaina sneaked me into her house, I walked past rows of gold photo frames, silver handicraft elephants and raindrop chandeliers.

 Please, I need those thick markers from the craft store, you know, the ones that color far away from each other; you turn the corner into golden golden golden any night