Naturally

icehouse, parking-lot, icebox
he gave me a thumbs up
from the front of the classroom

chewing cud and corn and wheat
in the maize
at Chickory Hills, Oklahoma

I played a game
about where I’d like to die
I told myself anywhere but Michigan

I have a cut on my lip
and its blood stained my blouse
and this toothache is keeping me up

Papergirl

She told me about when she was a child,
and was evicted from her home. It must
have been mid-November. All of her
belongings were strung in the front
yard, and under the willow tree stood
her kitchen table, and on the table was
neatly placed the peanut butter
sandwiches her mother made for
lunch. And she remembered the snow
flakes falling on the bread of her
peanut butter sandwiches under the
willow tree. And it made the bread
soggy and undesirable. And it was the
first snow of the year. But it wasn’t a
record breaker.