A deaf woman’s broken plate

she fed my kitty on while I was gone
Came home to find her
Napping in the ac 
She couldn’t afford

Cigarette burn taken back, 
Sucked into the violin 

My old cell phone,
attached to my hand for years
this new one’s like a tree trunk
my hands stuck
pressed down under it

   what I took when you died 
what I wish for you to love

If you were a robin you could
swallow a dried worm
the entire length of your chassis 
following it up quickly with a giant fat grub
but too slow,
it’s now in possession
of the sparrow’s mate
no way it’s getting stuffed into
a head that shares it’s girth-
a fardel larger than a bodkin
-she’s not a snake!

I dreamed of Ingrid in the pocket park
woke to a monstrous blue heat 
with dry rose pastels 
rubbed into it, 
no that’s the glare from the street

Phones are too big for our hands these days
It’s basically an iPad
Will I carry it less in my hand
or will my hands get aches
from gripping their girths?

This 80 degrees is tinged
by a shady cool otherwise 

I want to run after that girl…
“Where’d you find this dress?”
I’ve learned at times,
not to be a lunatic, and have a bit
more reserve with strangers 
at times

The insides of my home, black 
as that flowing linen
for maybe a whole minute
gradually taking on colors
an internal sunrise