Mother, father, forgive me, for I have sinned.

I re-rewind the precious tape 

and read again the note she slipped me

So six months ago Leona showed up at my place in a state of high flustration—her word, not mine—with Myles, her son.

Mr. Dog says he has a very important job

Bull leads, cow follows.

I’m sure there was wine, plum slices, sauce pitchers—

Letters indeed look grander on the screen, you’ll give your cellmate that.

Look at how I never needed you

And so they converse.

It was a summer of killings.

All summer I shadow your band

from the porch

It’s toughened glass, and you only break one pane.

“Untitled” oil pastel drawing by Andy Graber

I’ve started to measure everything for the very same reason, as if knowing the dimensions of things and the distances between them can somehow stem the chaos that is threatening to undo the world.

You see, chickens are a bit like sharks.

They came to the mountain because that’s where their prophets had told them to go.

how the will to survive

outlasts the will to destroy.

In return, I lacerate their hearts with flint.

i didn’t look in mirrors.

Still, he pays a penny.