as driftwood –here was the heart, naked
A presence at a border draws / the arm of the light
There was nothing comic about this
resurrection is a myth / and thus not false
I mistook tragedy / for a verb and ran with it.
drones are dead by win- / ter. workers / never / finish.
“So much of the world / holds itself at a distance”
“lost / in the field / waiting / for human life / to reenter”
I could always hold the longest underwater
Cover art (detail) | Cliffs Near Capitol Gorge by Ryan Molenkamp