mmm fragments

Burglary: Andrew’s ribcage was chipped
from all the breaking and entering I did,
trying to become one with his lungs (those bellows those
gelatinous airtank machinators) as they popped laughter
like enflamed firewood or pitch-anywhere tear gas

canisters.






I went fishing and ended up a blur—an obsolete
predator—my only catch a becalmed bucket of long-
rusted fish hooks. It is nice to come home with extra equipment
but that day the seafood won. I have no gills. When I returned
my garden had ceased photosynthesis: flowers beset by worms,
my soil’s blossoms were baiting the sun.