a minute to not breathe

Orbs of air, like weightless quicksilver, slide from my nose as I roll to my back.

and thank you for allowing me to return

And now I see where you had been standing, that air blessed with the fragrance of your sweat...

thank you for allowing me to return

I wait here, listening to the words here and there that flutter out through the screened windows...

corporeal ascendency

I will improve.  And next time, I will do it right.

short on words

... of course, when you’re standing naked by the fire, there is no real space for words.

i saw him shot in the night on my block

I see the man shooting: dark jeans, white sneakers, and bald as a baby, swinging the pistol wildly, hoping for luck or God to direct his slugs. 

unfinished dishes and TV extras

How can I explain that he’s been the same person over the course of forty or more years’ worth of TV shows...

waxing and waning

All is poetry.  All meaning is bent toward something else.

the nice thing about internet acquaintances

He’d been gone for seven years.

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