Where Are the Arms

You were on the floor when I got home Scraped you up, cleaned you off, got you out the door I drove you to the basement on your knees. You were sneaking out with little lies in the morning by the market, for a good time You tried to hide it by the le

They sit on steps against the wind The colors changing growing thin In lights and lye and lost illusions Watch these two discussing What to make of Unborn children who may take or not take Let us not break Their cups are cold their hands are black Th

Come on, boy Hasn't it been long enough? When all you ever thinking of is where are the arms that armed your love? Come on, girl In the window that you now look through You see him grey and curled and blue Where are the arms that armed your love? And

My grandmother catalogued the contents of the icebox, sure that there's a meal to be made from what was in there. She offered us an orange for the seven days of aftershocks, dressed up in our best clothes with the powder in our hair. It sticks in the