If there was
God I think
we’d be damn
sure of it

Fishkill Rural Cemetery



Ducks there
Never flew south
I was sitting in my car
Smoking a joint
One was waddling
Through the slush
Toward the highway
It was white



All the faithful departed
They had incontrovertibility



if you don’t
hear from me
i've arrived

Portugal



Your ruins
Still stand
Dogs bark