24.1 Poetry

Killarney Clary   Given away. This is the end of the longest night. We are never certain; often the darkness is all of all of us, but here is the loose end of a spiral we hadn’t even noticed. I will believe what I see until, between the shadows, the circles turn to crescents, or…

Killarney Clary   She’s worried about the roll of the boat. He will sit wherever she wants, asks her if she’d like to lie down. She lays her head against her sweater on his lap and they both close their eyes, a few of his fingers tucked under her upper arm, his other hand ordinary…

Killarney Clary Maybe they’re all singing to themselves, alone in malls, against foot traffic on sidewalks. A small dark boy kneeling, rubs the chest of a limp man in the parking lot of the 7-eleven; he’s done this before. I can feel the inside of my skin. Don’t Walk/Walk. I am a package that moves…