FOR THE SHRIEKING CARDINAL AT MY WINDOW WHO I HATE, 2016
Loud little bloodstain
on the morning’s blue backdrop, ruining my view, ruining my morning with his stupid mating call. My upstairs neighbor leans out of his open window to say aww, he’s looking for love. Man, me too. But you don’t hear me crying about it. READING LORCA’S “POEMS OF SOLITUDE IN VERMONT” IN VERMONT, ALONE Double sunlight from the reflecting snow, this uninviting brightness keeping me indoors. There’s nothing for me out there. Not a single shadow to slip into, not a solitary dead leaf to crawl under. All that white is worse than green. |