A barn in my daughter’s bedroom is red
it is red as barn the barn a model
of barn bent by years of misuse. My
daughter houses black white cows stack’d plastic
animals low so pack’d t’th’rafters.

A barn in my daughter’s bedroom its door


I can’t stop you please don’t disappear.


Out on the walk with chalk our daughter tells what to draw. “Our other daughter.” She’s pale there on the pavement.

The two trees in front of our house break white and purple flowers every spring. We can’t breathe for the falling petals. The street gutters blush.

We fall asleep on the pavement. My drool erases. I can’t held / help myself / it. All over our bodies what falls from the two trees.

Indoors once more our daughter requests a recount. Me, you, and you, Me, you, and you. The chalk won’t come through.