The crushed teapot in the rubbish of the bulldozed house will sing in your ears forever.
A Poem Traveled Down My Arm: Poems and DrawingsI broke down when we broke up, but I didn’t break in to her house just to break out of my routine.
This Book Has No TitleNo, I am not all right, I want to say. Have you been to my house? Have you seen how empty it is?
When You Were Here