
“that we be returned to the faceless / attention, / the waiting and waiting for the telling sound. / Am I alone here?” from Jorie Graham’s “The Phase After History”
that last walk i
pissed a sigh
and she tickled thought
breath needs
but one last walk
piss my tail
beats twice bedsheet
breath in the dither
the third time i’m surprised
her white lashes flutter nothing lasts
walk across high-pitched europe
in heels white europe pissed away that walk
i pissed sigh
she has ticked away
from me and could be coulding
contact her into her
tail beats twice such a way
a high-pitched passport
talking gently a staccato thought out
a thought that she is boring
and better lost her breath or selfishness