Aubrey Lenahan
I cock my head and metal
glints and someone wrote
conviction ends in action
but not where it comes from so
I've resolved to show my pleasure this way
and that possibly we'll forget
what love means when we've both grown
tired of saying it I grew up
with cicadas machining and I am scared
so scared now of everything:
the farmer extending his one good arm
self-portrait with prize tomato and salt shaker
and oh how you adore me
green seeds drying on my western shirt
I want to feel the earring tree says
they're all still bagged from travel and I cry
I stole: twelve hundred bucks
a book I broke the bowls
he drank his tea from
I picture them: many times