{entries for dimension}

at birth
it says
iceberg, and then

crown

–

I have this story that can put
for you
a banana peel

on the floor
of the delivery room, this other

–

with a scarecrow
midway through it

looking all
tore up
like it was used

last night
as a fork


{entries for belief}

ain’t a thing can be crucified that has clothes

when people think
you lonely
you can slip
twice
from your mother

you can chew with your hands in your pockets


{entries for Ohio}

I am to my blood
what ant farm
to ant

–

the mother worries about them sleeping at the same time
the twins

–

the dark has an ugly brother

revenge
a rare
photo

–

this babysitter I know
driven
to suicide
took things
from a movie
set

–

god says
bring her in
the fast
reader

for observation


{entries for intimacy}

things I said when I stepped on a nail
things like
a spelling bee
is underway
in hell
and how deep
it goes
the thumb’s
suicide


{entries for music}

while I kept
scarecrow’s honor
my elbows
off the table
and ate
to practice
swallowing
mom she put a litterbox
on a piano bench
telling dad
dreams
are the paws
of god