to like better?

when I was 22

I wrote you a poem

about driving around a curve

and the lovely

poet Akhamatova

still good,

but I am a harder

woman now

that I know that the Easter Island heads

have hands and legs and navels

history has changes us


and for me

it has created

a book of pictures

you and me in various places

sometimes Dad is there.

as I lift the last handful

of sand and let it slip through my fingers

like an hourglass

watching Time

slip away.


is just

egg whites

whipped with sugar

the difference between

calling you

to righteousness

and beating around the bush

which, you do, by the way,

because there is a snake in it?


He likes it more than

the things that make it–

a broken


a threshing floor

and the hard force

of metal

against air