If you are going to the shower bring the present
You still never rest and still too long
You pass through the eye
You hear a great deal about work like everyone in the meantime is not desperately
on land
You are nothing but the letter which gave you pain the short infirmity in which
You a fish came back in the dream for short visits
You know
You know the hot sun the eye of the day the smooth addiction
You in a personal study at all times exercise
You rest again a creature in an old world
You in daily life
You even think Mike is what is going on in this house but
You do not know the bear remember
You disappointed with nature count the best tools the eyes the things Laura on the
bridge so little saying what if I school
You
You came out and there was a second-hand curtain
You lifted it
You unencumbered by things are such a whatever-bow in the fiery the dark
curtain in the wilderness your head hurts
You was not will be
You tense have come to the market
You get healthy
You work go to school to meetings
You was loved and hampered and in the morning
You are no cushion of the sea deep down and undisturbable calm
You often paint
You think of Mike on Sunday when
You count the mountains in the way
You thought about where the impossible locust is
You go to your head and
You see the things at the bank the beam the river
You go to Baker’s to close
You even lately go to the garden pine for a lilac
You planted
You a great physician examine your garden burn the juniper your hand above and
fumes escaping
You trade nothing your voice over the hands unfolding
You on the track move
You are on every side
You remember that time when
You in bed lurked up in the night on the train
You on track
You book irregular duties on the mountain
You say ah these people so much for morning have many dots and spots and lines
and keys in them
You do not have what comes next
You forgot
You ask are I in a summer sea
You forget
You look and there the feet the remains of the many persons in unknown ground
You pass your feet in front your right hand in a thin line
You go forward
You shouldn’t have what will your own shoulder lean on
You however bitter remember the wheel its movement stillness sullen a face the
voice bloomed
You would hunger until the sound of rain and the broken pieces of a woof
You wanted everyday winter
You are not coming up for the position Susan is vacating
You in the tunnel
You and Mom on the tributary
You focus
You plant bitter plants
You get lost
You see the lowlands the steepness the uplands
You call friends
You stretch out stony
You hear intruder-hush
You clear crushed have done something ridiculous
You think yes a letter in the post box
You walk it out by day and back again and again
You only come for Thanksgiving
You and the character
You shower
You dream a work day
You am unteachable
You pay tax but do not take in the meaning Dad is it Dad whatever
You feel like polite
You say lovely Mr. Dickmeyer
You take Mom’s smoking with an eye on him
You can always make a yield
You and the boys keeping hold of
You
You give some edges of a hand to the bitter plants
You don’t work by keeping still
You mold the gray full-orbed nature
You have many fruits in the garden
You and the little seeds
You mentioned the actual conditions the details
You already know
Karolinn Fiscaletti is a co-founder and editor of Op!, a journal of poetry, art, and criticism. Her work has appeared in Lana Turner, Fourteen Hills, and elsewhere. She lives and teaches in Portland, Oregon.
