Don't go to the child [to]
Ask how the mother's born.

caviar

an oil-lamp
in the coal-black darkness.
we sit with Jonah.
saltwater meal,
we can't taste.
sick at the inevitable spit.

wildflowers

this des[pair is like wallflolwers
flowers on the pavement we miss
like rain that makes people angry
lovers we miss make us angry
we're so sickk not being able to love
that we drown in a puddle lost

nowhere

I am transparent
as a ghost.
overcome by bliss
of nothingness.

no shadow.
no dark worm of valence.
passed through

by sunlight.
a corpse made of glass.

depressant

Sertraline wraps the heart in cottons-swabs
as it sinks into a coma of bloat and broken bones

making invisible the insects beneath cracked sidewalks

and silent the frantic call of mating sparrows