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Three Poems photo


My Lucky Numbers are 12, 7, 11, 28, 32, and 16.
On the boardwalk a small blue card tells
my past and present: I hurt people with words.
I was nature’s stepchild. 
No one knows how I got here.
I float three inches under the surface. 
Waves move above me and whirlpool my hair.
Sand shifting on sand is musical and dry
like your hand passing over my haunch.

My fortune says I walk a thorny path.
A tiny bruise, purple as murex, stains my throat.
I am torn with longing for many unnameable things.
I push my hands through water to show you what I need.
I am a very impulsive individual. 
One of these days I’ll awake to a peaceful world 
and great happiness will be mine. 


Considering the bay shore, lapped
like the palate of god’s stupid mouth

Considering my husband and considering me, lost
in the same room, where are you, where are we

Considering the mirror, breaking its own heart
each time I trouble it with my face

Considering the fine edge of terror
the morning brings and also the night

Considering how I eat envy like a fawn
noses furled lilies

Considering time, so casual
in its lazy dismantling of me

Considering the silverfish, consuming
my poems with a diligent hunger 

Considering fathers
considering them especially

Considering my body

Considering anxiety, the urn I must fill
and fill 

Consider fleeing

Considering the way a road goes on 
and on and on and on with horses and fences and everything 


It, I understand it
I am afraid of it, the endlessness
of it and the end of it.

No, you can’t unlight that match.

Imagine, taking it all back, birds
soaring down not up, smoke
curling in on itself like a comma 
unborn; this house, exhausted,
folding into clean planks that take root
in a tangle of shadowed forest.
The front door furs with moss, trillium
sheer enough for light to slice right through
so call it a window, whatever, don’t ask me.
Words are over now and also thought.

The thing is, the thing is 
the end and endless are the same,
the snake choking on its tail. There’s nowhere to go 
there is no where.