Before bed, my daughter asks/about when we were bears
They fly us to the other side of the world to ply our trade and think nothing of what we might learn along the way.
But desire leads to disappointment—always.
my kid baloney anomie deep in the mist down where couches slouch
Make sure you keep some space around you on the road, sugar. Air will never hurt you.
Call whoever’s home into the kitchen. Count heads.
we plot the return orbit/ and splash down/ to invoke nostalgia
My uncle wanted to show me off, this talented niece from America, and he asked me to say something, anything, in English.
The city was as new to them now as they’d been to each other back then.
A certain music has stopped.