—Jenny Jump State Forest, Hope, New Jersey
We’d just buried a friend—good mother, wife, volunteer—
an example for us all, the pastor eulogized
before we crossed ourselves, tossed our de-thorned roses
in the mud and drove west on 80,
I Forget the Language of Scars – Eileen R. Tabois
I forget releasing breath to describe milk transformed by your scent.
I forget the taste of your mouth was song of licorice.
this sad little enclave of horses – Julian Talamantez Brolaski
of all the lines of all the subway cars in all of new york city
we walk into the one with a corpse
it just puts everything into prescription for us
as jason stackhouse says