1.
The tree in the front yard is dead and still
has the audacity to blush
greenly. No one’s told the limbs
their horoscope yet, and
I won’t be the messenger.
I just sweep the leaves from the side
walk and no one’s the wiser.

2.
My grandfather still knows              my name. I’ll try
to forgive him when he doesn’t.
           I know that from now on, every
shared memory is a moving sale trembling
under an erratic price gun. Know
that everything must     go.

3.
In good            company (or this company),
I know to tuck my tongue
behind             my teeth. There’s a difference
           between my favorite tie
and the one                  that sells the car.
I            can sell a bad car well. But        does     it matter
now                   what makes it off          the lot ?

4.
Every phone         call wipes more
       of his slate     clean. I don’t           mind
retelling      stories if he     keeps     asking
       questions.

5.
every phone     call wipes       more
                         of our slate     clean I don’t         mind
                                      retelling stories         if he keeps     asking
                         questions

6.
I’m learning to love the bridge
that can’t be built.
To love the tree that clutches
onto its warmth.
Even now, I can pile together
the leaves I’m given

                                                              and jump.