iv

summer is almost here
and love is
an accumulation
he beat me and we
played a little mouse
if he continues to play
he can stay
but I enjoy this game
better than the subway
I enjoy his sonnets
best ever I’m wet some
it’s been the
best spring ever
we were eaten alive today
a wet spring
and the longer it’s been
the less I feel

I took a break
and made the bed
between prescription refills
inevitably our perspectives
shift
this being due to the ticking
moreso than normal stuff
otherwise no
terrible side effects
no blue boxes
I didn’t kick him
since he finally
gave me money

iii

now I am twenty-
nine years old
the Virgin Mary
is sunning next to
a broken bough
incredibly uneventful
he thinks I have a
way with words
he got me a nice
lamp and some plants
I need to get those framed
massage lotions
phone messages
her poems like colloids
full of frozen gestures
dream scenes
the Columbus Zoo
he told me
he doesn’t think
we’ll ever
get back together
drive to work for a while


first published in can we have our ball back?

ii

my blister is
getting better
the green garden hose
with the butterflies
trying to relax
reading lemons
e-mails from a
smattering of purple
blooms and one
orange one like
lunch at Rosie’s
today with distant
airplane flashbacks
I mean I just keep
at the back of my tongue
am I supposed to
go ahead and
say cerulean
I just have a feeling
especially since
he doesn’t trust me
he’s just saying that
because he’s afraid
the television antenna
stark-still
otherwise fool around
now with the butterflies
that fall like snowdrops
an undetermined type
of relationship
two folks chattering
in front of dust
cat-curled
not going in a
good direction
I got a birthday card

i

I have a nasty blue
my two nights
in a row under
Hotel Huntington I
have a nasty blister
on my thumb
I’m inconsistent
anachronistic
paper pumpkins
a new phase of
window over
my life of yellow
butterflies and
no sex
hummingbirds
and pigeons
it’s a lit yellow
butterfly
I’d glue myself
inside your
closed eyes
what seems
a smooth June
it’s lit
closed eyes down
what seems
smooth
on the 17th
we’ll be
moving stuff
3 yellow butterflies
best way I can
describe it now
write more
single-handedly
billowingly
pipe dreams
this saga