The way a chair makes room for me
and gladly bears my weight.
Falling Out of the Shower as a Reflection on Mortality
This morning could have been a dress rehearsal
for how it all goes down someday.
Monday
The cafeteria smelled of beef stew, marijuana
one hundred sour mouths of unbrushed teeth
The Season Within
Beneath my feet, a universe stirs—
a snail drags its fragile home, trusting the earth,