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104 pages, Paperback
First published September 13, 2022
Let the pale reporters and their pointed questions about beingEven a dumb white guy knows he's not talking about fruit.
"the first and only" hang from trees like the warnings they are.
—"Diahann Carroll Takes a Bath at the Beverly Hills Hotel," p.37
I grieve the bodies I thought beneath me and the body I became.
—"Grief #346," p.57
I sit here at the intersection of White Street and Bland Avenue, waiting for the Stop sign to change,
When Mr. Jones rolls by in a parked car (get your stories straight, man!),
Hanging something dark and dangerous out the window:
"You look hungry. Why not eat these words?"
So of course I had to.
It was simple self-defense.
The End of the World loved us
like a father who bagged about the broken
roof he kept overhead whenever we'd complain
about the night air watching us sleep,
or whenever we'd wince at this reach
Your grief is so heavy,
when we lowered the coffin,
all the pallbearers fell in too.