In the evening trees become sad
I climbed on them like a metaphor

Six weeks after diagnosis
 
I stayed away out of respect for your daughters.
You followed the hearse with your father and the girls.
 
He couldn’t stay within the boundaries of himself.

Thought Experiment
 
The clock has lost all its numbers.
I wake inside an Einstein thought experiment,
where my bones defy gravity and get sucked
what some call “up.” I’ve only time to grab
from beside the bed where we’re sleeping
our copy of Rovelli’s ‘Reality Is Not What It Seems’

My List Poem of the All-Important
 
Trish,
Kindness,
A small family of wildflowers announcing themselves in an abandoned pot,
Morning sun warming barley fields at Castletown House Estate,
A grounded fledgling glaring defiance as I gently inquire of her health,

Not a found poem

But a purchased one –
To find Ewrop on a single cup
Despite the English on top –
Re use
duce
cycle
Birziklatu
Genbruge
Endurvinna

      Self-Portrait as Road Runner You with your elaborate schemes of entrapment, your hunting parties, moonshine and shot-gun weddings, your Sunday-school socials for girls to glue bird seed and pasta on prayer plaques, sew aprons with Singers– this...

I have not known how to shape
This poem—

I found it, drowsy,
Quarter-to-six in winter
In the cold of an unfinished floor…