The Collectible Dust
spilling spicy noodles next to sex on the bamboo mat and the sudden summer rain fox goes agallop mint thai salsa in juicy clumps matted platinum streaks of lightning mistaking my crumpled shorts for a sleeping dog hemorrhaging pupil images armies of raiding rials humpety-hump beats of wet-plumed crows caw hem and haw of wet [...]
Maybe This Time We'll Win
The damn wind must be the loneliest thing in the world. The way it blows shirts clothes-pinned to a line filling that old shirt full of air and dust just like some old body air and dust just like her her body, all air and dust cinnamon and citrus and just like the wind she’s [...]
