Aubrey Lenahan


I cock my head and metal 

glints     and someone wrote

conviction ends in action

but not where it comes from     so

I've resolved to show my pleasure this way

and that     possibly we'll forget

what love means when we've both grown

tired of saying it    I grew up

with cicadas machining      and I am scared     

so scared now of everything:    

the farmer extending his one good arm   

self-portrait with prize tomato and salt shaker

and oh how you adore me

green seeds drying on my western shirt    

I want to feel     the earring tree says

they're all still bagged from travel and I cry    

I stole:     twelve hundred bucks    

a book     I broke the bowls

he drank his tea from

I picture them:    many times