How should we neighbor the sidewalk?
At night, our hearts pop & crinkle.
I want to kiss you more than I do.
A match lingers in the stairwell
& we all want to ask who put it there.
No one does. This makes the match
more powerful. To not speak of something obvious is a kind of magick.
One sign reads “ask & you shall receive.”
Five dead doves arrive at the door in
an Amazon box. Stuffed & mounted.
We have to keep track
of where our hope ends up. He crouches
like a toad, waiting for the street lamp
to stop breathing. Vigils happen
every minute in every city. I name
my kitchen after a star & wait for
the bread to awaken.
We talked about ghosts in the living room
& the ghosts listened. I said I think
our house is haunted by which I meant
I am haunted & it follows me.
Shadow figure takes three showers a day.
I pile my shoes like a hapless mountain.
All the door knobs are trying to quit.
I take mine off. Hold it in my hand.
Flinch as another firecracker explodes
& my bones say “gun shot you’re
already dead.” I close the blinds.
Ghosts pick crumbs for the carpet.