More on: Poetry

If heaven exists and I’m not saying it does / I don’t imagine rolling hills flowery meadows

I do not know / where pleasure leads,

black-robed Death never closer / with cartoon scythe and cardboard eyes.

The toddlers maintain / zucchini, sing the songs / only they and those closer to the earth // Understand.

I don’t consume saliva, I consume You

Have you seen God yet / how he’s rushing to arrive on time by two thirty / responsibility responsibility

I’ll take nails, / long nails, / and drive them into my body.

Yesterday I spoke to a man from Dussen who’d had a very hard life. / For much of his story, he was a secondary character.