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The Lonely Life.

"And so, thinking about a treasure they go, librarians imagining a lost floor
below A-level with books in dull yet jewel-colored bindings, smell of must
like the sound of foot on cement floor..."

--Gerald Burns

Two flowers that used to grow in our garden before the bombing.

"Juniper Blue

The shellac-hard days of high-dollar oils, of watercolorist’s mufti and glues—
All that’s just a metaphor, something to bind order to itself with, a palliative
Against steerage, that lonely outpost where the radio’s mostly

On the blink and the vegetables costly. The mastermind’s name is Dick, the
Mastermind’s name is always Dick. Interloper and liar, nails like claws
Leaving drag-marks in the sand. Mudpuppy, cave-dog, face like a poach’d egg."

--John Latta at Hotel Point 12-23-04

"Everywhere fixed is a prison, so any motion away is an act of insolence."