Before the magazine article told him about beauty— perfection as an equation he’d yet to solve— he was special. As a boy, all of the stray dogs
The Man at The Gym
Ursa Minor
My aim ten years ago was an arrow
that sparked in my hand.
Destinations
you follow a trace of footprints smudged ash-green, but they disappear
Birthday
When you were fourteen your bones sprang from your body like knives
Tullamore
For centuries a whiskey town Distilling Molloy's firewater And a Phoenix town Risen from the flames Of accidental destruction Caused by a hot air balloon; The first ever aviation disaster Here in Ireland.
Back from an MRI and At 80
Back from an MRI brain scan I listen to a Miles Davis album Black Hawk San Francisco 1962 Where a young Latina And I grooved on the vibes