We are us, arms and legs emptying a car, elongated tent poles and a thin cord stuck into car lighter, air to fill our beds.
It was a perfect ending./To die for nothing.
a chimpanzee fishes termites with a stick/ but lacks the imagination to whip its young.
Another fish I chase is a/Silver Do-Over
Before bed, my daughter asks/about when we were bears
my kid baloney anomie deep in the mist down where couches slouch
we plot the return orbit/ and splash down/ to invoke nostalgia
A certain music has stopped.
They come together, a new object.
I sit on the train and wonder/if you are dead.