“Mother, the shipwrecked / are here and there. But / do you really think they have come”

“Then between us the passage faults underground.
/ Think: rooftop of a classic hotel hearing Marco Polo.”

Then I close Judith Butler’s SENSES OF THE SUBJECT / after reading words that I remember as / “I feel only because I have been touched, I feel only on the condition / of being touched, I feel as an ‘I’ becomes a self.”

April’s final Saturday spent circling / museum halls. Photograph of rotting / peaches, shutter-captured intimations— / open mouths, juice-slicked hands, parted / flesh. A knife.

April’s final Saturday spent circling / museum halls. Photograph of rotting / peaches, shutter-captured intimations— / open mouths, juice-slicked hands, parted / flesh. A knife.

“Freud says when you go to bed with someone / you are really going to bed with their parents,”

“A stabbing pain, refrain, my abs / from running thickets through”

“When I die, I will not be demoted / to dust, just a flake of ash to flavor the air / or float downriver into the sea.”