Leaves

There are days when the
Sun dies young, behind houses,
Between bare branches
Long rid of their amber leaves.
My back and forearms ache as

I pull piles from the
Gutter so it won't clog when
It rains later; an
Alert on my phone says it's
Inevitable. My old

Rake is rusted, too
Often abandoned
Overnight in the yard. It
Greets me like a slighted friend,
Pushing splinters into bare

Hands. Who knew tools could
Be so vindictive? I plead
Sincerity in
Waning daylight: let us work
Together once more, and I

Won't forget to put
You back in the garage when
We're done.

When it makes sense

Try loving me at
3 a.m. when the dark of
Nowhere is so bright,
Singled-out, vulnerable.
A woman hacks consumption

Across your car and
Skin tingles with train itch. The
Bathrooms are below,
Faucets shotgunning into
Metal catches as you washed

Your face with a hunched
Back, elbows jutting without
Coordination.
The train lurches to a stop
South of Klamath Falls. A child

Awakes and wails hot
Protest to a young dad just
Out of the army,
Whose sloping face contrasts sharp
Muscles up his arms, across

His shoulders. He looks
To me for anything, but I
Close my eyes and fake
Sleep. Love me then, with screaming
Children, with the woman who

Might have died, with my
Nascent tuberculosis,
With anything you
Have left. I gave everything
Else as a tip for bitter

Coffee underneath
The observation car just
Before it closed for
The night.

Swimsuit

Some years ago we
Were young and our eyes shined like
Polished metal. Back
Then we lived in Portland, where
Everything flowed like honey

From a tipped-over
Jar. Life came at its pace; we
Worked together by
Day, or at least alongside
Each other. At night you drank bourbon

Anything and I
Sipped beer. Once we floated the
Umpqua River in
Borrowed tractor tire tubes while
Steelhead jumped between us and

Greybeard fishermen
Huddled on the shore, lips wet,
Eyes tired, eager.
The shore was a hazy green
And brown, dotted with globs of

Yellow and purple
Paintbrush wildflowers. The
Water could have been
Invisible, or streaked
Choppy white, becoming a

Wide impressionist
Canvas. You wore that lilac
Bikini covered
With magenta polka dots.
I hid a blush behind my

Burnt skin. The suit hugged
You tightly as the river
Carried us under
A bridge where shadows cooled the
Fire on my face. I closed my

Eyes, picturing my hands
In place of the top, pushing
Just enough so your
Softness spilled out around
The sides of my fingers. I

Loved your skin. You laughed
And looked down the bridge of your nose
At me, through askew
Tan aviators smudged with
Your fingerprints and sunscreen.

Vanity

Face half-pressed against
Glass, nostril fog floods and fades.
Air conditioning
Works best with the windows shut,
Only chilled temperature
Difference keeping
The city out. The sound of
Suction, doors open
To hot wind, gas fumes burning
Us up. It was all in vain.

The corner

And we saw, sidewalk
Burning our bare feet, diamonds
Disguised as broken
Shards of scattered glass. Your voice
Echoed off fading signs. Dust
Stung our eyes, pavement
Cracking to swallow us up, but
You wouldn't let it.
We stood on that corner, sweaty,
Hopeful, irrevocable.

Wax

You let me get you
Alone, when your chapped lips bled
Until mint lip balm
Made us tingle, memory
Wax tasting like better times.

Pilot gas, 4 p.m.

Customer eighty,
Shower's ready at stall five.
Buy your single-serve
Soap and get the key from the
Desk. You have fifteen minutes.

Percocet

Vivid percocet
Dreams. Antibiotics, crash
Of garbage trucks in
That place between waking sleep,
Haze memories, and nightmares.

Volare

Volare. To fly,
Planes and clouds and wind
And me, up, up, far away.
Volare. Eyes shut, deep breath,
Face the sun. Here comes the drop.

Placebos

I stare at the sun
Until I see spots. Later
I'll read about death
Certificates and browse old
Magazines at vintage stores
While deciding how
Best to enjoy placebos.

Hid

Down in the wash no
Rain and no tears flowed over
Hot black rocks. I hid
Under young juniper, not
Watching as you slid on by.

Sunbursts

Stolen sunbursts in
Tiny gloved hands explode and
Scatter in the wind.
The child squeals as leaves fly for
Others to gather them next.

Wishing wood

Brittle wood between
Tears and laughter, hung on thin
String. Tiny hands clutch
Physical dreams, all that's
Left of fading memory.

Sap

I can't overcome
Wind and wine and small airplanes
Grasping for the sun
With sick and sweet words, thick sap
Bubbling slowly off my tongue.

Salt

Cerulean wisps
By the shore. Acid drops kiss
Bleeding lips. Salt burns
My eyes, floods fresh in my mouth:
Memories I can't forget.

Stitches

Thousands of thin wounds
Pull apart like weak stitches.
Hot dust burns my lungs.
I throw rough stones down yawning
Canyons and hope for the best.

Leaves, too

Yellow leaves float on
Cold, clear water and stick to my
Skin. The stream passes,
River to ocean, taking
Time and my memory too.

Touch

Wind and wood. My hands
Bleed, worn raw. Are we alone?
I can't feel that way.
Let me hold you and touch each
Person you've ever held dear.

Water

Flash: Water from a
Big sky. Dust mixed with roadside
Lavender. Rain soaks
My clothes, washes memories
To rivers, away, away.

1945

Kindling in a hot
Rush, fire sweeping the forest
Floor. You do nothing
Except watch from afar and
Hope winds don't blow it your way.