Aftermath

The year's just started; it's summer already 

More. More. We always want more

Worry. Worry. No sleep, worry

A coffee-stained cheek 

Red Pony lungs get no favors

Rotten, brown, mealy peaches 

Love so much that you and the beloved 

Go to the farm

White Annuals, guitar pick petals

Vital wheat gluten, chia, flax, and farro; compost

Rusty toenail clippers cut my forehead's stretched skin

It's green tea and broken wrists

Igor Levit's Partita No. 6 outside

the star jasmine leaves are fluorescent in E minor 

dreams of indigo curtains

On the farm

Poetry is a garden

That quickly dies