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Dark Pines

A construction company clear cut the woods behind my old house and sold all the pines for lumber. For the first time in centuries, shadows disappeared and light revived the color in the dull brown pine needles.



On the 5 train there is a man who gets on somewhere between Franklin Ave. and Union Square. Says his day has not been fine, the way most people riding a train from Brooklyn into Manhattan’s days have not been fine.



My cousin says she hates the way half and half leaves a greasy coating on the inside of her mouth, lacquering her palate She reaches in a plum fingernail to scrape it off I drink my coffee with skim milk The only thickness on my tongue is guilt and I have tried scraping Brushing and …