I want to be a good man for you.
I want to wear a faux leather jacket convincingly.
It has a texture like roof tar
when I tell her I don’t even
enjoy Bundt cake, I just wanted
to do something productive with
my day after being laid off.
The uncles of Palestine are a different breed of men. They can spot newcomers from one end of Jerusalem to another. With a warm smile, they ask if you need help. Where you are going. Where you are from. Give you precise directions. They know many can’t return there. They welcome you to the Holy Land anyway.
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My old friend and I went to a restaurant for lunch,
a ramshackle little place, but my friend told me
the food was great—and it was!
Oracles write prophecy on leaves
for a reason—the loophole.
Oh, Karen. We get it.
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Moby Dick
beyond all hum of human weal or
woe
I have swept the floor and perhaps it is a fantasy
Spawned from a heat-oppressed brain, but I think
Of Jung who sat on the rock in his youth and
Could not tell which was which