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If It Ever Happens That the Fire Goes Out

A cuckoo calls the hours like an old clock, only not the hours we mean.

If to Say It Once

Now only the single syllable that is the beloved, that is the world.

If You Are Water

If you are water my left hand is a horse thief my right hand is alder smoke.

Ill-Advised Love Poem

Come live with me. We could plant acorns in each other’s mouths.

Imaginary Intangible Thing

They met on the app in April, shortly after her twenty-ninth birthday.

Immigration

Oh, how did people do it? How did they find some way to be happy?

In Custody and Other Poems

Make haste, my love, I am redrawing the scale of escape.

In Love

Those moments are all I want. I want a life of this. He sighs and I sigh.

In New York

It’s raining concrete. I bite my grief wetly. Who will test these chains?

In Search of Inner Mongolia

“I want to stay in real yurts,” I said, “not yurts for Westerners.”

In the Absence of Rain

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

In the Kitchen

The child writes, Child, and is amazed at this word on the page.

In the Land of Long Distances

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

In the Region of Ice

He’s an excellent student. It’s just that . . . he thinks ideas are real.

Independence Day and Other Poems

The old-timer outside the guard station was knifing his own tires.

Inside a Lateness, a Singing under Snow

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

Instructions for Wooing Me (Monster That I Am)

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

Intercourse

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

Interview with a Moron

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

Intimate Tyrannies

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

Into the After

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

Introversion

She looked over through the falling snow. “Jack?” she said. “Is that you?”

Io and Other Poems

Her body is no longer the source of pleasure but constant pain.

Ismail

The neighbors were Ukrainians with bad tempers and owned guns.

Isolation

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

It Is Better to Be Remembered

At nineteen I lived for three months as an earnest cocaine addict.

It Moves the Same

I could throw one of these rocks at the moon and watch it fall.

i’m sorry, i’m sorry

home is his hands, our bowls, so many gay fridge magnets.

Jackpot

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

James Salter

The power to alter one’s life comes from a paragraph, a lone remark.