“… Yet the world doesn’t pause in gob smacking wonder.

Hardly

The fact is I am not valued.  Heck I’m not even liked.

And to top it off I even destroy the insects you hate.
I eat them. …”

“… ‘Speak carefully,’ a child hushes his mother,
Small fingers pressed to feathered lips,
‘And it will leave.’
The mother and my grandfather
Shook their heads, and with all their might
Pulled the children from the water,
And we sang from the depths of our souls …”

“… Those kind of tears will overflow our ocean,
Turn its colour, rough it up.
Slow down Brother,
Gulpin like a fish on sand,
Chest liftin, swellin like a storm. …”

“… Is it ok to skip stones on the River Styx?

Is everyone having fun? …”

“I build my nest in bare branches …”

“… Wading up French gorges
Falling comically off canal boats
Tumbling from piggyback fights
In municipal pools. …”

“… And his colleague’s personal space,
‘Can I be honest with you’,
Tugging with his other hand on his dangling earring
For added sincerity. …”

“ …The hum of moss
is reverberated 
through the chilled
lips of bracket fungi, …”

“… with a heron’s delicate blue. You still 
haven't repaired the smashed photo frame — …”

“… and I’m reminded of how long I lived,
resentfully unaware
of how much joy I often brought to

my parents …”

“… Now his Upper West Side building
has tobacco-stained corridors
that lacquer-over generations of families,
relics of a religion dying.
Rituals lost, buried animal skin
no longer giving blessings. …”

“… His trip home timed exactly to
your commute to work,
Maybe it makes a difference
whether you’re coming or going. …”

“… 6 Satsuma jars filled with dead dogs.

2 separate bedrooms

1 person crying all night while the other snores …”

“I just remembered…

When I was a child

There were bars on my bedroom window. 

Why do you think that was? …”

“… As toddlers

my sister and I might be bathed inside mop buckets—

a routine I dared not share outside our neighborhoods …”