down that foggy roadslow centipedes crawlplum blackberries falland the ground
the Cathedral in Cologne looks like a spaceshiplike the hand
I am not afraid when you call me downdown the
down in the valley of hollow logstwo lovers lay in
It's four in the morning, the end of December
I'm writing
there's a mountain north of Winnipegburied under iceand as the
last night I went out walkingout on the edge of
we came in this world togetherlegs wrapped around each othermy
falling snow spun above the roadwinding through the dark woodswhere
The giant of Illinois
Died from a blister on his toe
After
Chicago is where the woman downstairsstarved herself to death last
We stopped for coffee
In the redwood forest
Giant dripping leaves
Spoons of
now that there are green sproutspushing through dead leavesand fat
I remember the day my little brother brought you 'round.
Like a 3-legged dog you've called in sick. Sure there's
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