We own the horizon, so draw it out
in one giant breath full with a rolling green
oxygen tank and some horses
underneath it It is a landscape
we can walk into a nursing home
eventually I feel the way
you and everybody must, after all
these long delays like ice cubes melting
The most meaningful things never wind up
in a window, but sometimes they do
in the belly of a buzzard or a girlfriend
I’m so tired of walking into this house
and knowing that it’s not my house
and won’t be my house for several more days
I need a place to wrest this motorcycle
from chance, which is art, so lay down
my pillow on the head of a pin,
crushing all the winged things
to powder for the baby pigs
I think this is what it means to amplify,
but it just as well might mean
I don’t know where I live and should
make amends with the sky
and all my friends who ever
rummaged through my backpack
looking for a hangover or some
fog to rub against themselves
I’ve got plenty of fog You don’t
even really need to ask for it but
probably should as a matter of empathy
and forgiveness for all the times
I’ve stolen everything,
from your heart to your headstone,
then lost all of it trying not to
in the couch or the forecaster’s
high in the 50s and rain all day
I always take the weather
around me so personally,
when, mostly, nothing’s such a big deal
that we couldn’t just go to a diner
and slam some scrambled eggs,
then look up at the night sky
and wonder