It’s me and the mothers, out in the foyer.
Linoleum floors, knotty-pine, late ’50s rumpus room—
long row of trophies, blue ribbons on a shelf.
Distant Trees – Stephen Page
“I don’t understand why distance
must be measured in nonnegative
from “After Dinner Was Over” – Katie Peterson
I am enlightened, a man
says after dinner, and he doesn’t
mean what you think
he means, he means he’s a product
of the Enlightenment, he’s talking
Afterwards what’s left out is what insists:
a swath of tall leaning flowers on the way to somewhere else,
a field lying fallow where the air quickens,