construction site at seven p.m.

five great behemoths
sun their tired dirt caked claws
in the fading light

christmas tree lot as metaphor

in the desert
tender boughed saplings
turn their needles
toward the sun
and claw the earth
with root for water

happy

in the
convex
glass of
an em-
pty bot-
tle i
do not
know my
own face

word

a lonely
joke
husk no
punch
line

hero

knowing
full well
that it
did not,
he bent
over
to tie
his shoe
as if
it mattered
if he
tripped.