For the Potato

I told my parents you won’t be having any potatoes when you come over, you say  as I swallow peanuts one half at a time over the phone. You say things like that sometimes  not knowing how I banged my head when I tipped the scale last summer and lied about it after.

To Turn and Fall

nine and a half meters;  a foreseeable twenty more years,  sixty-three square meters,  and a large sink where she would hand  wash the nappies, never again shall she descend the stairs to a laundry room,  and the vows — about three minutes each (rambling as he would — that an altar has to be so much like a stage)

Love is Latin

The origin of Man is SheWho with her lovely feetBreathed life into our veins and nervesAnd made our limbs completeShe says her Love is Latin—And she believes in Love When minds are gripped with fire and flameAnd ancient towers fallenA shepherd in a land of yoreYields all to its callingHe says his Love is Latin—And … Continue reading Love is Latin