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ISSUE:  Winter 2022


Crucial early bark
   to learn, like dat?
Or no! The wooden ball

rolled & stalled
   beneath the piano,
the tiny playhouse window

you’re half-inside
     & out of.
O, confit of second hands,

minutes, hours,
     years presaging 
what’s to come—

snagged zipper moments:
     a body struck in flight
by diagnosis or lead-shot,

the slug of partly-chewed-
     whatever lodged,
mid-laugh, in windpipe,

a cluster eff of want
     & grief you can’t 
escape from. It is night

in that movie, love.
      But still day here.
Call out. I’ll hear.



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