Every fart, / burp and feces, the body’s / speech. What a triumph / to royal your own musk.

I haven’t been writing really but I’ve been / thinking about the words, “Palm Rose.”

If they would stay just where they are all morning, / they’d be the monument to the history they’re looking for.

Rain falls on the wedding / a hole in the church is suspected / and the blessing jumps crazily / from umbrella to umbrella

“You will crush our enemies or I will crush you,” the voice commanded. “These are my neighbors,” I said. “I don’t get along with most of them, but I wouldn’t want to crush them.” “It’s them or you,” the voice said.

Little Shorts, sharpen your keys and clutch them like knives. // When you’ve got nothing else, go for the eyes.

He sang / like a gas station on a black summer night.

you stand a long time / by the creek, then / feed it two pennies, / one for you, one / for the love / inside you that / you can do nothing / with or about.

A talisman against the agony / in his knees and hips // for which he was taking / black-market fentanyl