Ohio

we belong in the grass. my twin is in every photo. we made our way out of the alley, rockford files dialogue, fedora, the curtain light is half-awake. climb the rock wall like the rest of them. political water, down-jackets, and it's slushing on us. through the rails, the city-lights flare. the narrative wants it. yes, it will turn the page. stop that trickledown and mug for us. dave had a bag of apples. we were not in fremont. reading glasses, microphone, the camera we bought in san diego broke on tiger mountain.

A Jealous Heart is a Heavy Heart  

the party revs & you collapse on the couch cover.

my brother talks about losing his virginity.

my mother lives across that field of horse
& dead grass.

in bellevue, she’s parked in the structure
across from your new place, eyeing

the guest parking space, and sending us texts.

I Had No Intentions

the museum of flight did not implode,

though we watched a crowd scatter.

who’s gonna reset the bone? harborview

collects helicopter traffic & beacon hill

is all lights & sirens. remember this,

remember how the smoke looked like columns

of ashes & glass. everyone is lying about

who they knew & who died. the whole

gathering of hills will go if the wind is right.

your father is not drunk, but he’s got fistfuls

of quarters & a story about your sister’s husband