in a dream I miss the ferry trying to get to you swimming between icebergs, everything blue, glowing each heartbeat a stroke closer


in the Greater Depression

a seedling will be worth $1000
(but you must account for inflation)

the wind will still blow
and the sky might be bluer
a sea blue
and I will still love
those wrinkles at your eyes
and we’ll get by in the ash
marking a path to the garden
each time, the tomatoes
a little greener


dog sightings from a foggy mountain drive:
shepherd rolling in wet grass
beagle with an orange hunting collar watching as I pass
pyrenees walking his two goats
blue heeler nosing a water bottle in the road, gone by the time I turn around


I’m sending my books away
the unread, the disliked, even
the loved
what can a row of books
sitting on a sill tell you
about yourself
what will they say about you
when they’re gone


there’s a baby vulture sitting on the ground
but we’re the ones hanging from tree limbs
he’s watching us with red-rimmed eyes
through our olive branches and ivy, waiting


Komodo dragon in my dream
curls up beside me like a dog
under the lake surface
a sea turtle wrestles with a snake


her hands smell of eucalyptus
hiding in a dark bathroom
after too much gin
but it’s a night of merry
and white
a crisp of november air


I pass by a glowing window
a woman in red at her desk
monitors flickering
a single square of light
what is waiting for her at home?


a squirrel in the hallway
the single pink rose blossom in a freeze
a man on horseback in traffic
things that don’t belong
but do anyway