PJ, 29:
humid heat
a drunk drones on
about bad luck
PJ, 28:
chain-link fences
on both sides of the road . . .
post election
PJ, 27
first homecoming
I refashion myself
between flights
PJ,26
divorce talk
the burden of who
will take the dog
PJ,17
between street lamps
a sex worker
and my shadow
PJ,12
my muse blinking
in Morse Code . . .
one more glass of wine
PJ,9
street preacher
wisps of breath hang
around his mouth
PJ, 8
Mona Lisa smiles
at the woman in a burka . . .
art gallery
PJ, 5
arguing over costs . . .
a man of few words
in the coffin
PJ, 3
drinking at a bar —
the old man he swore
he’d never be
PJ, 7
eating a Big Mac . . .
alone in the attic
I ponder
the Chinese word for home:
a pig under the roof
PJ, 30
Victoria’s Secret
in the window
my wife’s wrinkles
black and white
photos of my school days
new patch of gray hair
behind the hearse
carrying the former mayor
a few people
. . . and the garbage truck
keeps its safe distance
