Poetry

square garnet faded dream mount / as a tree could unfold in waves

I have laughed so hard and for so long / at the ceiling that it started to scare me / like the square root of a poppy seed

My mother never left her high school / science class bored to rub one out / in the stall of the girl’s room.

I know some people walk backwards through their death into the room they left. / Who told them to do that? Nobody.

I suffer at your hands / and their absence.

She read for the host / the voice of a person who’d died alone…