it’s never what
you think it is
but thank god
it isn’t what you
thought it wasn’t

outbound plane:
heat waves on tarmac
propel empty promises

the squirrels
or maybe chipmunks
because squirrels
get blamed for
everything so
let’s not jump
to conclusions
but anyway
something dug
up the tulip bulbs
& gnawed them
to bits so sorry
about that

sleep arrives
on a metro bus
belching passengers
on to sidewalks
filled with street
vendors hawking
diet advice & cheap
seen-on-TV products
& maybe that’s why
I woke up in the
night to pee on
the corner fern;
forgive me, I was
distracted by the
shiny Rolexes

the wasp
writhed wet
smears on
the deck,
its nest
a pulp
dot mashed
beneath my
birkenstock—
let me go
as fast
& unexpected,
a flash or
gasp before
oblivion

google tracks
your every move
a lover out of
favor who
texts & recites
your cart
contents from
an aisle over
& reminds you
how good it is
to feel wanted

so damn hot
for early June
so let’s get
away from
concrete &
steel because
there’s only so
much humanity
I can stand
in summer
& the trains &
trams & buses
are filled with
the great unwashed
& that is not to shame
anyone but only
to say work
should not rule
our lives but be
subservient to
our mental space
which is probably
too didactic for
a poem like this
but screw it &
if that pisses you
off write your
own damn poem