Postcard Ghazal

Sick in bed, I read your postcards and crave heated honey:I have the kind of scratching cold you only treat with honey. “When you come I’ll pack a lunch, carrots nestling next to apple slicesand your favorite hearty sandwich on slices of wheat and honey.” I like to look at pictures of Greece, with its

the worms have come again

the worms have come againdressed to the nines in pinstripesbrandishing invitations printedon creamy white cardstockthat I’m sure I never sentit doesn’t really matterthe worms are here nowclattering their paperweightson the table and braggingabout the glassblowing classthey all took last NovemberI do not ask how they blewglass when they don’t havelungs because I’m notentirely sure if

It was all in your head anyway

bird nest lying in the snowcold candles I lived somewhere no one knew meworm under door mat floating in the middle of the lakeunable to see the shore my car was towed during a snowstormyour bike was stolen again grinding the penny into the pressspent all my quarters on a toy that didn’t work dropped

Small, New Animal

“Quite commonly, even without any particular disturbance, a large worm will break up into a dozen or more pieces. Each becomes a small, new animal.”from The Strangest Things in the World by Thomas R. Henry There is a worm ninety feet long. there are worms twice as long as my apartmenti think about them obsessively

Touching Heaven

We strike a candle and against the flame shines the bronze of a blindfolded belltower. We slit our stomachs and pour out all that we swallowed. The bell’s clapper, like a tongue against my ribs, comes clanking to the floor. You are rich with quarter notes after eating the hymnbooks page by page. I want

Spring Break with a Friend

Trill of redwing blackbird while geese mutter-honk, disapproving our approach. The soles of our shoes, soft and light for running,roll against the dirt-gravel trail with a rhythmic crunch. We areunder the sun, within the wind, beyond the reach of the truckswe hear rumbling down some distant highway. Look, a snake;listen, a woodpecker. A normal hike,

Half-Remembered Book

There are two boys, or, there is one boy and a girl. The boy who is definitely a boy is blind, and the girl who might be a boymight not exist at all. They are best friends. They live in a town with cobblestones and tall shale-shingled rooftops perfect for running across under the stars.