target="_blank" rel="nofollow" href="#u678f8769-c6b1-5011-8aa8-4289095e7dca">A Tan Dog Standing
The Applicant’s Wife’s Rendering of the Facility Tour
Squall Line Stalling in a Memory of Rain
Eclipse on the Day of the Field Trip
The Prints from Vacation Are Back
In the Garden of Dr. Sun Yat-Sen
But All Energy Does Go Somewhere
In Which I Am Taken for a Ride
My Lifelong Relationship with God
I
Real Life, Dear Voyeur, Real Life
Much has kept me from my task.
October has peaked here. To look out
the window is to lift from the chair
in order to get closer to those
leaves, still shining with the drop
in temperature, radiant with colors
too exact and pleasing to explain.
To look out is to leave the house
entirely, in search of a justifiable
chore. The garlic, for example,
must be planted, and soon,
lest the best of our seed cloves
shrivel away to no better than
dust-in-a-casing
