(2012)
jump in the truck, and disappear in moments measured in rust, that flakes off in the friction of…
something feels as though it is at unease because it has not settled.
Fish fry in Benoit. Joyce brings a hundred dollars in cod and beer almost right to your mouth and you wonder if it’s
everyone sees the red-torn deer ca… the mess made dragging her to be shouldered, everyone gawks and shifts the weight of
when you get started and you don’t… start digging slowly and softly, move things around. i turned over a rock
refreshing to know there’s still n… that’s unsure of its footing. love that’s unsure of what to do a… standing in the truck head-light g… feeling small
A stone in the lake old as water. Older than any question. Older than dirt and more stubborn. Round.
we held the dream between our holding hands. we held our hands in the warmth of my coat pocket
leeks bursting seedpods, equinox of our summer, moon becoming full.
the truck is gone. the truck is scrap. (just that one half of the bumper, just that license plate from Big… everything else is gone.
the still rising sun calls to you to rise; early morning dawn light brings you to a particular log and leaves you there,
it is March now. winter hangs on while spring looks on waiting.
After close, the image loosens until it is just being held together.
Truck sounds like metal on metal– grinding coughing hard–
Fish fry in Benoit. Joyce brings a hundred dollars in… almost right to your mouth and you wonder if it’s just too easy