From The Field Party

The Field Party #1

in the feeder of ohio the fires burn with bodies as well as they burn with the furniture that once held the bodies it doesn’t matter if it’s summer & you can feel the heat from the two-lane the fires will be lit all night long we raise our children to track those gatherings to bring the drinks to those gatherings to bring the cord and the blood in the cord to not fear becoming part of that fire to know that the fire is ohio to laugh in spite of ohio as it masquerades as fate and then becomes fate in a twist once it has you on the bench by the fire staring at the fire feeding fall with the fire knowing that there will be no crisp without the fire without your body without your willingness to see at night far past the rational hours the midwest always claims to be all the hours

The Field Party #2

the guns are tucked into the field party they stare at us from the trucks the bikes the toyotas the regardless they’re always pointed at something which is always held by someone three times i’ve seen a bullet enter the fire & never return three times i’ve seen the casualty claim it wasn’t the bullet that entered their ribs we prefer the lie

Emily As We Let the Faucets Run

Teeth don’t sing,
but they know
all of the songs

& the rub
to vibration
of all of the songs

& since Emily
is only perfect
when she’s wasteful

I wait to hear
the water clear
the pipes in summer

for no other reason
than to displace
the music that runs

through my head
& echoes past my
teeth. All I want

is for her to give
me that dedication
of water

that we do not collect
that we do not use
except to quiet

my intentions for her.
She can erase me.
It’s an actual gift.

Emily As I’ve Offered

to bless each cheek swipe
as an ending

apparently, I’m not
to bury any part of her

it’s the sort of promise
that plants me with history