Sudden blow bundle of grain a surprise a heap of sheaves
with the Dutch
A thick mass of your hair on the brush in the pillow in my
When an electric current passes through all or part of the body
How I wish
sign up to receive a new poem-a-day in your inbox
From the window the river rinses the dark. I twist the wedding beads around my neck. I’ve lost my ring, silver and antique, bought from the night market in the other world across the ocean, color of dull lead, color of the pan I scrub and burn in the sink. * Catullus wrote, I hate and love, and he wasn’t talking about marriage. * Not talking about the blacked-out window crossed with hurricane tape, like a movie screen, a page redacted, your hand erasing a blackboard with an eraser’s soft compliant body.