Some Peru
It’s no use asking for a pronunciation one night
when next morning you don’t remember it. I was
five years old then and you were 1,878 miles away.
Whales of rain in one hundred degrees of heat.
“Does he have sex with men every day?” “Maybe
it’s just the way he writes.” How unreasonable
to think I could get through half of this stack
of books on one three-day holiday. Charge
battery, flip on the green fan, clean up Coco’s
water-puddles, rinse the reusable coffee filter,
strip down. Cool evening, Alameda, Brandon,
then Julian on and along the Gowanus. “Sludgie”?
