THOUGHTS IN MY
Her bruises were, in fact, the whole planetarium.
I am sick of saying it, because
everyone is hung up on "shirts" and
"static" and "peaches that are red":
She stands there tangled in her clothes,
it makes her happy to hold the cassette,
like she believes in "sometimes".
I wanted to say "she is what I wrote about
Instead, I put her soul in an old plum.
I made her unsentimental.
WHAT KILLS US AND
WHAT UNDOES US
The robin shakes his whole body
when pulling up a worm;
the ground gives the worm up
but it is his beak that splits it in two.
fiction poetry "fact" photography