But, oh, to live awhile as marrow
in someone else’s bones,
to breathe her breath upon the mirror held up to your life,
Poetry
Even the Best Records Have Gaps Between Tracks (and other poems)
I’d rather be pushed down to the bottom
than to be that kind of man.
The Slow Work of Unlearning
I am headed somewhere other than our sense of things,
where I am supposed to believe in notions I do not believe—