June 17, 2013 § Leave a comment
In the night without air
give me a hot wind,
and never again shall I ask for rain
give me a hot wind and electrics
and a hook to hang them on
and a space to leave them down when
my feet are cracking on the hot concrete’s
haze. give me a hot wind, and I promise
never again to ask for rain.
June 8, 2013 § 4 Comments
don’t let her take you down in the wrap dress
peppered with the trimmings of this year’s mitzvah
where it comes from like oil, the olive grows not.
bottled, and reading:
you are my mystery.