Out of the darkness, into the light,
you’ve tripped: the bulb by the back door
illuminates a fierce scrub brush on legs.

He was not himself. He was just a shell
                a hermit crab had made into home
                                awhile, then left behind.

I haven’t met you yet. I’m out the door,
late for a bus, suitcase spilling open,
disgorging my life so far.

Never put your personal spoon in the common jelly bowl.
Spread your napkin upon your lap. Do not grasp.
Eat what meat your fork can get to; the rest of the lobster must be given up for lost.

The year of stepping out from the matinee
onto the bright sidewalk and waiting
for our mothers to pull up in tan station wagons.

No sadness. Secrecy’s a sweet wine we sip from one cup.   
Someone sits alone in her car in the dark, listening to the engine tick.
Now she’s OK, she enters the house.

Was handed the pamphlet of maxims, took it into my heart, folks did
                that then.

Being made to drink vinegar from a sponge,
that part was true. And feeling bad for the lepers.
Being a Cub Scout with a glue gun

It was a dangerous day.
The earth was shining

Oh my god, it’s Paris by moonlight
Even the trees are drunk and walking