Away from these hills
& the scraped river,
the fireflies dip & glide.
I injured one,
flicking it off my knee.
Past the pool’s precipice
a saucer catches the runoff,
the lawn catches the saucer’s runoff,
the hills catch the lawn’s runoff,
valleys catch the hill’s runoff
a river catches the valley’s runoff,
The Gulf — The Mouth of Despair —
catches the river’s runoff.
Shea’s eating oranges
while watching fireflies.
He’s expecting his first child
sometime between Leo + Virgo.
I prefer when depressives have children:
happiness + lineage,
In the night an insect
fell on my chest.
I awoke to swat it.
When I raised my hand
each fingerprint glowed
with iridescent viscera.
I threw the firefly to the floor
innards glowing, draped out,
just a still ooze.
I fell asleep,
the glow at the floor,
warm, but cooling: where lava meets the sea
& a fetus departs from its womb.
hung clouds & airplanes
from my bedroom ceiling: & there it was,
the comfort of
to the sea
beneath the waves.
I’ll repent once
Mercury no longer retrogrades.
Until then, listening to “Close¹”
is as close as I’ll get.
My bride isn’t in black jewels Clarice².
She dances in the disquiet of
a broken frame rate,
glowing as a specter.
¹ Robert Lippok’s “Close” from Open Close Open [Raster-Noton 2001]
² Clarice Lispector’s The Passion According to G.H. 
Solace softly sounding, falling
from the cottonwood’s grey-green canopy. final couplet
Chris Burden’s antithesis sifts silty river water
between her toes and mouth opening couplet
A glass grapefruit at night —
the arctic sun failing to set. center couplet