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Still Life with Peeved Madonna

You remind me of lizards birthed in an outhouse by an ogre or a loon.

Stoner

“It means,” Stoner said again, and could not finish what he had begun.

Stops and Starts

Weird that yellow’s the color of cowardice when the sun never runs.

Strangers

It was half the Spanish he knew—stop, I have a shotgun.

Stretch Out Your Hand

My sister’s fever wasn’t gone at all, but dazzling—suspended over us.

Suite of Unreason

All my life I have noted that my thinking was atavistic, totemic.

Suitors

What was she thinking, driving alone to see a man she’d never met?

Suitors Know Best and Other Poems

I stuff cotton in my ears, bits of bird’s nest, anything to stop all that talk.

Summer, 1995

Three rooms, sight unseen, rented from a nurse and her husband.

Superhero

Cassandra blared Puccini and Eminem so she would not pray.

Suspicious Minds

The first time we were alone, I knew it before he even told me.

Sweet Juice and Other Poems

We cling to an exact number of planets, to the Earth Our Mother.

Switch

Ghost still pace Georgia, hungry for babies, for husbands.

Sympathy

She was thinking about what she would say when the time came.

Taking Children to the Cemetery

No, you may not walk there. No, you may not stand on that. He is not here.

Talinda

“Aren’t you full of surprises,” Talinda would have said. If she had known.

Tankas

My children, children, remember to let me go, delete my number.

Tea and Sleep

I ask that now I be allowed to see the one my vision has been denied.

Tell Me

There was a time when all I wanted was go back. Ask all the questions.

Tell Me in Italian

She pulls quickly on her cigarette and blows it at me through the phone.

Tell Me the Truth about Love

Testament

The ego with which we began filters away as love accumulates below.

Thanksgiving

The snow on the windshield a tunnel of wings my friend is driving through.

That

That there are five sturdy red Gerber daisies in a jar on the table.

The Absent Father

Three lives I flicked alight with a few match scrapes. I cupped them.

The Accommodation

It was a Tuesday, so they made love. She thought it was a fair compromise.

The Afterlife

Sometimes the phone would ring and ring, and I’d go answer. It was him.

The Ambitious Guest

“I have always had a gift of feeling what is in other people’s hearts.”

The Archive Is All in Present Tense and Other Poems

I could page the women’s voices in their velvet bags bound with string.

The Arctic Variations

I have seen your ocean. I have heard your waves beside my bed.