You can dress my naked genome up.
You can teach it art and poetry,
but it will pace the corners of the night
grunting, ‘Something else. There’s something else.’
We should be glad our safety and security
are someone’s top priority, yet we
can’t help but hope for fresh announcements
In origami the mountain fold
an obstacle. The valley fold
folds up: receptacle.
The difference between
structure and stricture,
and wastepaper basket.
Five o’clock a.m. on a morning last fall, in the Walgreens of an affluent suburb on Chicago’s North Shore, where I have gone to buy batteries for my flashlight…