What Jubilee saw at Putt-Putt Camp wadint no tire swing. Spanned maybe a whole meander-or-two, crooked. Heard it can shrink around a babys- ankle, or bloom up big enough…

  He said, Oh, look, I can see the baby’s head— But what was there? I couldn’t read the screen. Was I pregnant? Was the baby dead (Hence the blood)?…

  In the strain and hazy fragrance of The garden of Miradouro de São Pedro De Alcântara, a mosaic of cobblestones Lies locked in Minerva’s fixed watch, The perpetual gaze…

  When I think of you I think of a goat tethered to a pole, you inside your cubicle leashed to the spiraling end of a long chain of events.…

    Whiteness in the air like snow falling sideways.   The van in which a man can stand rests in a driveway, turned off.   Fumes from the tires…

(headline in the Boston Globe)   Abandon the path, even once, if only to pee, and you’re lost. First text, undelivered—“Im in somm trouble. Call AMC. Somewhere north of woods…

  I will, at the end, strike a Delacroix alternative deathbed pose,   prop myself up, chaise-style with pillows so I can be viewed more mournfully   as I consider…

  My brother as if in a body bag— heard me laugh, couldn’t see but knew the curve of my throat when I threw back my head, lips open, taut…

  Four-cornered night, the faucet plinks— plinks a wet thousand’s thousand of droplets each stood just once to sing upon the silver bell of bathtub stopper. In morning, a small…

  “The trouble is—I am an old man— you do not think it worth your while to love me.” —Freud to HD   The dog lay by his feet during…

  The first time I was stabbed, sunlight napped on the thunder. A receipt caught fire beneath a Sprite can offering its smoke. Raindrops splashed from your skinhead. You were…

  Translated by Liang Yujing   The sofa: a butterball with excess fat sleeping on the sofa. The bedsheet: a spent, bedsheet-thin guy. The mouth: a stomach ruminating lies and…