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His mother wasn’t there to meet him at his stop. She never was.

They are glorious pumpkin-skinned messengers. I hate them.

“We’re not like other species,” you say, a novelist at night.

You’re standing too close to a lit house which could be yours—is it yours?

With a hammer well aimed, try to destroy the whole with a single blow.

“Leaving for war, Hayes wept. He didn’t just cry; he wept...”

My soul is simple; it doesn’t think. Something strange paces there now.

The poem I can’t yet write saves itself for when it can’t be avoided.

I have so many T-cells I’m afraid of forgetting their names.

If life was exchanged, who is to say it flowed one way?

We travel, some of us forever, to seek other states, other lives, other souls.

Help me, please help me, is the beggar’s refrain on the F train today.

Writing to you is like putting a note in a bottle, hoping it will reach Japan.

Again, nature has written a good script. The skunk saga will continue.

A psychologist told me we can train our dreams. I practice each night.

Definitely believe what you hear about the problems with painkillers.

There lay before us a bag that gave forth, at a touch, the jingle of gold.

Buster’s reasons for looking after Marco weren’t entirely altruistic.

God was surrounding the chair, leaves flourishing from a sickly tree.

insomniacs gesturing in a cave of neon light the narrative of their lives

I try to believe that even when cords are cut or people die we connect.

It wasn’t clear if there was an outside world to our outside world.

After you have read all you possibly can there may be a few lines left.

Not all his children love themselves. Look at little Adrienne.

My “lonelymaking.” Also known as my horrible secret, continent-wide.

I slept but never dreamed there. Nor did I feel the need to court a god.

I want to sleep in a bed next to a man who won’t dream of me all night.

Kansas is a cold dessert, I say. No, Kansas is a tongue depressor, he says.

The world seemed newly made and filled with a frightening silence.

The sense all along has been that there’s some madness in her.