Possums – Sheila Black
A kind of thrill—to lie on a road
and flatten yourself,
white fur like a ball of winter,
Seeing the famous, our desire for fame – David O’Connell
Seeing the famous, our desire for fame
flares up: match/gas. We are so lonely.
This is the reason we dream of soirées
Tie the Strings to my Life, My Lord,
Then, I am ready to go!
Just a look at the Horses —
Rapid! That will do!
after Robert Wrigley
He sighed each April upward,
his steady, virescent journey one
among the others—a modest rising,
casually miraculous. Beneath the hand