. . .
Prefix, in this humidity
light bulbs rust out in their sockets
& they are difficult to change.
In Oaxaca, I was told
the smell of skunk is good for the lungs.
The blessing can translate: benefit from it.
If I’m remembering this badly, forgive me.
The heat & too much of a good thing
makes us cloud worshipers.
I was trying to tell you something about dying,
or about death in general,
but I couldn’t get the appropriate language down.
little can make me worry like words.
It isn’t just the names of the dead
abandoned & hard
enveloped in air
that will dissolve
That which would stop the water
will dissolve chiefly in water.
This is all infinitely more instant in air.
Down on the beach, a tiny black bee
got caught in my chest hair
while I was on a food tour
& I swore
immediacy is only cloths.
Now you tell me
what isn’t retrospect?
Author Discusses Poems