The world’s a world of trouble, your mother must …
Linda Gregerson
When love was a question, the message arrived …
It had almost nothing to do with sex. …
We’re told it was mostly the soul …
The ones too broke or wise to get parts …
If faith is a tree that sorrow grows …
is doing her usual for comic relief. …
Coinage of the not-yet-wholly- …
Love the drill, confound the dentist. …
Night. Or what …
A kind of counter- …
So door to door among the shotgun …
She dances to the wheeze of my lungs. Were she taller, …
As sometimes, in the gentler months, the sun …
In payment for those mornings at the mirror while, …