the missed spaces, the missed places, the missed times, the missed rhymes, the missed persons I could have been or will be, the fear that restricts me, the choices that elate me, the food that prolongs, the life that kills and opens and winds up and scares and tears and screws, inspires and heightens and pitches and rolls and drowns and crowns and takes hold of and molds and breaks and pours into and empties and burns.

and here we steal away together

recorded 6.3.07

You make me sick

Not the nervous nauseous

Of sweet primavera days.

No, a new sick

Of disbelief

Of sacked dreams

You yourself built so specifically

Skillfully in my mind.

I could taste our life

Every detail you prepared.

But now what I taste

Is a metallic morning mouth

A mere reminder of last night’s extravagant four courses.

recorded 5.2.18

recorded 12.8.17