Poetry

A delivery man drops a Poorly wrapped package on our stoop Another thing to put among The many I keep, Whispering— What now, pig? Lord knows There’s no need, & then however open To let fantastic evil—a gorgeous writhing Leap …

  Once again we amnesiacs were soaking our beans in some vinegar and practicing our theories of forgetting, what we had and what we knew came in a series of shallow boxes. The sparrow’s song competed with our own, which …