proof of address

someone dropped
a banana peel
on Tzara's grave

Now You See It Now You You Don't

Hey Lee where you at
I dreamed of the dead
You weren’t there

twenty lies a day

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 waddled
Through the slush
Toward the highway
It was white

All the faithful departed
They had incontrovertibility