from THE BOOK OF SMALLER

Incremental

I don’t know how to write. Other templates emerge. My faith is insurance. A pat on the shoulder. Again, our skunk winters. Beneath forgotten hills. Salted. Indenting the crawlspace. A back-step of litter, strewn. There are exceptions. The birdfeeder seeds. Such vilification. Those bastard squirrels. Desperate, material evidence. Limits. Half your share. How to convince anyone. I want to know how it is you are keeping.