The Way Out

Lilly asks as we leave
the Highland Park pool

do you need
a dinosaur figurine?

I look at the lost
and found table

she points to, and
I make mental dots

for sprawling trinkets
that must have meant

something to someone,
once, trying to determine

what she means by dinosaur–
is it the green color shining

off plastic rings? The fake
bird feathers? She points

again and this time I follow
to a rubber Tyrannosaur, no

ambiguity, Yes, my cat died
this morning. Yes, right after

the break-up. Because I fit what
doesn’t make sense into butterflies,

love, and the stillness around me.
You ask, can you envision

our future together? I see it
in our palms: a tree with a million

branches, and on the other
hand, a tree with a billion

branches, and on another,
a tree full of open hands.

(originally published in Dandelion Scribes, Spring 2025)

Dinosaur

I dug myself a crater
upon which to climb
out of your wedding

you said extinction
means agreeing
to not be seen

& I am not about
removing myself
from the premises
of Earth

but here are the pearly
gates & golden steps
one can walk & walk

up into clouds
of thunderbolts
skipping time

like stones upon
the black surface
of water let’s say

to next year
when I have forgotten
the empty pool

& blueberries
have fallen out
of my mouth

& bounced off
a stone wall
I could climb

to jump from

 

(originally published in LEVITATE, Spring 2019)