windrag : poetry : journal

I think i should. if i were true, that’s what
i’d do. i want to be that one
who does. who does it ’cause it’s just the thing
to do. who does it beautifully

i asked him if he wanted to pick the lullabies
or if dadú should pick. he said,
“you pick.” i fell asleep before he did.
our roles are interchangeable.

cool spring night. another failure
to attain set goals.
not grasping, not avoiding, who
prepares for sleep?

i rarely go for night walks anymore
and when i do i hurry home
and bolt the door. tonight, i heard a rustle-
fresh vegetables from our neighbor

the doctor sees the lesion on my calf
describes it with an acronym
writes a prescription. i ask for details. he answers
with credentials. i’m not comforted.