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There’s a line at the local post office on Friday morning. “Everyone comes here,” says S., “cuz it’s a little one, they think they’ll be in and out.” She tells a man with a dozen packages: “Leave them with me, come back later, and I’ll have
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Six chairs and a table.
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and two eggs, please.
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and bird's milk
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Somewhere between Bryant Park and Broadway-Lafayette
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The ants contest the emptiness
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Every week I think — I’ll skip this week.
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She was the kind of girl
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Six days ago, on our way up to Quebec
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(And a reading in August and another in September!)