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The ashes of a human being are not ash. The body burns into wood.

Blacked-out little angel, you shuffle home under the streetlights.

Another year another almanac, a washed-out castle in the sand.

Divorced. Wife living with someone else. Pregnant with his child.

Some longings appear so frequently they must be instinct.

We were alone in the world, and we had left dear ties behind us.

Under pillows of snow, the creek shushes the sharp architecture of ice.

I am a pornography of small promises, the chugging gin of the universe.

I roam the dirt with the law in my teeth, a widower in search of a widow.

I roll lactic bubbles under my face with rose quartz, fuck a pillow in sleep.

I realized you were my fourth love, and the system was always doomed.

This box is full of wires, energy that moves in ways I can hardly fathom.

Interviewer said he had no intention of stealing anything from Subject.

Unwall the summer in blue threading, gift of someone who loved me.

I wondered if the coyotes and deer were mourning the loss of Steve.

My mother used to cry in church seeing a child walk down the aisle.

May your wife remove her shirt and have an affair with a tornado.

We know that we were lied to, the disaster was worse than we feared.

My wife fell in love with a dancer. A woman. I came here to get away.

She sips the coffee and thinks about throwing herself off the balcony.

I let him record me doing it all. I wanted to watch me be a monster.

she was right—hurricane being the name of the feeling, the twist of it.

We say America you are magnificent and we meant we are heartbroken.

Don’t start conversations or attract attention. Don’t be suspicious.

I will leave the pills in their bottles, I will leave the bottles by my bed.

It changes nothing. It’s nasty shit, and you’ve gotta get clean.

I’d done what no woman of my race and social station had ever done.

I was the man in her life. I know I’m different now. Now I’m a bird.

I taste on my tongue a gunshot of synapses warm and light like butter

Someone says Jesus is bread. He is also suffering. He is like the Internet.