I don’t want a wife.
I leave religion for
sexless reasons.

From white ends, I grow back
chives in a wineglass. I drink
drinking vinegar.

That’s what’s in a name.


Tonight, I burn the oil, 
          daybed and tapestry,
espresso machine and safe,

expecting someone
            to walk out with me.


Up the hospital steps, I call
I love you. I can’t
help it. My dead bad boy,

come down to me.
I know the ending. This
film doesn’t make me nervous.


See, yes is writ
on the trees.
Even dawn admires

the plastic chamber of my pen.
The windows filled
with concrete. There’s

a lid without a bottle.
            I’m not from here.
This could be my element.