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Dance with you? I said after a moment. That’s your dare?

For days after she left him, he roamed the house, unable to function.

I eat what’s in front of me, as all great men do. Some wouldn’t, but I do.

A man drunk on the damage he made to a boy’s young mouth.

Warm breath in my ear mouthing a name; rivulet folded back in water.

In its shadow, our mislaid secrets cascade down around us.

& I said let there be dark pouring from your mouth at daybreak

She was gone then, inaudible, steeple-reticent, demure as sky.

He was reading Our Town. She studied the departure board.

You are with outsized footnotes that have tracked across the Internet.

“Jesus Christ,” Dad said, after the counselor spelled it out for him.

I have many dreams, I say. In my dreams I am better than myself.

He’s gonna change the way we farm around here. Make it more like India.

The one who sold me a smuggled gun sold me smuggled bullets.

Loss. That word echoed in my ears as my eyes ranged around the garden.

Our neighbors the Bells are watching, watching us when we play outside.

In the garden this morning, I thought for a moment I saw T’ao Ch’ien.

“Out to lunch,” she learns from an older colleague, is a euphemism.

The architect is twice my age and owns an ivy-covered house.

The sedan clipped their front bumper and pitched Bill’s car into a slide.

Mom often went to work on her days off. The library was her refuge.

The stories of terror continued well after the tsunami had passed.

Owen falls. Like a dummy. Like he’s dead even before he dies.

I’m trying to decide if I’m too cold to be curious, when the box meows.

It could be our baby. Her eyebrow, its perfect arc, the pale blue vein.

He thought of the love that had filled the great central chamber of his life.

Another girl like an origami crane, given to a reckless boy who unfolds it.

Even in death, my mother had to make things difficult for me.

Now he was all out of dreams, out of rage, expectations, and money too.