Bone
Bone waited till I was asleep, in the head, oc
cupid with ______ (myself/non-transient things) something
I obviously don’t remember or else I’d have noticed Bone
took his time freeing himself from my chest He left
no splinters He was courteous to his waitress and tipped
meaningfully Bone made sure to always wear
appropriate ______ (shoes/headwear) for the oc
casion Bone never mixed liquor with beer, or white
wine with red Bone avoided pink entirely Bone strolled
through the door, taking nothing, not even the loose change
in the ashtray in the living-room Bone never told a girl he
loved her just to feel like a human being Bone sent a postcard
from his new job It was a picture of a hole There’s nothing
there, it said Nothing to block UV rays, nothing to hide
forgotten bills behind Bone always knew the shape
of my heart There was no return address No stamp,
only a smudge in the corner indicating
almost anything
(Originally appeared in Barrow Street)
The Country
We wrap her in a blanket, nurse
her with yogurt, drops of water
on her lips, force antibiotics
into her mouth and hope
she swallows, anything She hates us
for our violation, but the worry is too great
for manners Through the window,
with her squirming in my arms,
I count seven butterflies, fluttering
yellow with black spots, stripes;
Hollywood to a lepidopterist, perhaps,
but moving to me Overgrown Russian sage
envelopes the porch, the French doors, bees
float, whole flocks of birds I can’t name
descend together like some sort of tide In the evenings, deer graze like
cattle, unafraid Again and again, I wonder:
how could anything die here?
(Originally appeared in Borderlands)
Soaking
I wanted to have dinner waiting
with flowers and candles when
you came home I wanted
to tell you that you’re wanted
in such a way that it would reverberate
for days, weeks, years
But I worked late, had to help
a student with her paper, hit
traffic on the way home I bought
dinner from Fresh Market, instead,
arranged it on plates, bought flowers but forgot
candles You were late, too,
so I cleaned the bathroom,
while the food cooled and turned
hard The laundry is folded, the dishes
are in the machine This
is love Believe it I’ll get candles
tomorrow
(Originally appeared in The Dead Mule)