buckle up you're important

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and if you had put your arms around your mother,
what do you think would have happened.

frost glassed the grasses. sun and i
do not emerge. if today was, i closed my eyes.

it is very important for a fly
to keep its feet clean,

so it may identify what it has landed on.
one hand on the wheel, one hand on the heat vent.

traffic: wind and its phatic
grumbles. are you always this sensitive

to touch. the ear, nose, and throat doctor asks.
swab pressed up nose

to cauterize a recurrent bleed.
the scarf i knit is clumsy: windows form

in the space between
stitches, like in a card tower.

like chain link,
each meeting spools, knotting.

a crumb-sized spider crawls out of my sleeve,
wrist-turn. are you always this sensitive.

somehow it is very difficult to ask my family out on a date.
“scary” even.

what’s it called when there is residue left and it makes it better.
larch tree sizzle yellow cigarette tongue seasoning.

reservoir grass collapsed with frost.
my mother forgets to touch me.

what kind of sorrows
are you interested in.

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