Beasts
At the threshold
Rats

The ivory wedding hat came tumbling down—
how long had it been stored away, untouched
like desire repressed and bound—

I’ll be waiting down by the broken mailbox,
            sniffing for letters.

cinders on your tongue like snow.

While you are sleeping
in a bed tethered to the wall
by the cord

It could feel good to stare at numbers 
all day, another job but I can’t name any; 

You have shown me
that there is no trick

He takes night as a kind of medicine,
swallowing it with a buck and shiver.
Sometimes a drowning muse come from within

There was a time when
his words made me wet with tears:
Ah, our wedding day.

You must have looked so small
treading hungry water
with Rex and Elizabeth.