into the folds of the purple iris which, at dawn, / becomes the hub for spider silk, filament after / filament…
It is four in the darkness and you cannot breathe. / You cannot will your chest to expand, and suddenly, / this is all right.
we steal water when we make rain, the way / everything I have is from somewhere else, / from someone else,
We lean close to admire the web / then blow on it // gently.
Listen, dark one, as the sun sets, / the boxelder beetles come down / from the west wall
Kan Ren Jie He has started praying –my mother says, clenching in her handsa blurry…
T. Le how often they end up the same theses mandarins— rinds falling off like…
I could tell from his voice / something was horribly wrong. / I’m okay he said over and over / in a tone that told me he was anything but.
A trickster, the ear. Making us believe/
what eyes deny or hearts might doubt,