I, I, I, I, I (Declarations 1)
I can live forever for the next five months
I found another page from the burned Frankenstein paperback
I am already constantly grieving the cleanliness, beauty, and comfort
I want to get a kite and fly it from the parking lot at Canarsie Pier
I extracted three staples from a London Plane Tree
I do remember a lot not everything
I am sitting on the patio with hanging plants and thinking
I rush to let go
I am devoted to my world
I believe in you
I am making music videos in my eyes
I can summon frog chorus to my ears
I love watching the river
I accidentally knock it down and need to realign the sections
I hear it all while I’m asleep
I follow a cute wooden plank path
I find out he knows her personally
I am trusted to drive a SUV
I take a pic on my phone
I am putting some of my clothes on
I feel lightheaded
I walk in and hear a number
I do not know the context
I just sit down with a book and read
I was greeted graciously by the night
I eat my way out of my old self daily
I am in a house
I should make the rules
I am full of love and imperious
I break all spells
I found a golden acorn
I thought my approach was completely appropriate
I told him where I was
I put my sunglasses back in the case
I sing along
I demonstrate a shape with my nail
I am sitting in the grass
I pet her head
I made it
I simply slipped away
I look down at the canal
I could do something now
I go to the sink to wash my hands
I guess we are eating here
I look at piles
I find myself going back
I write with dripping wet hair
I was searching for a way to turn it off
I said I was in her yoga class
I could see through the dark
I can more clearly sense the contours of my mind
I have my preferences
I, I, I, I, I (Declarations 2)
I do not know how to get there gently
I kiss the moon at midnight once a year
I inhale the osmanthus until I become lightheaded
I drive past the Carvana tower rising against god majesty sky
I have been hard at work identifying species
I can hear them gurgling through the wall
I saw a single googly eye on the burl
I sweep dust from the gazebo I go to in my mind
I felt his chest swell with air
I collected sweet potato peels
I always make it beautiful
I surrender to the self-immolating bird of my heart
I watch orange light wash birch trees
I hum
I do laundry while the wind howls
I see a cloud that looks like an angel
I see a cloud that looks like a heart
I peer through a wrought iron gate
I see myself reflected in a fractured tv screen
I see my hands as two
I admire shapes the snow makes
I consider the distance
I appreciate the word ‘wintry’
I send a song
I step around a cat on the stairs
I wonder how accurately visions are translated into words
I place the gold rings carefully
I undergo an excruciating process
I capture the pink light within my hands and raise it to my face
I point out the similarities
I extract essence from memory
I watch you stir the soup with a wooden spoon
I say dreams dashed to pieces fall into the river
I notice the earth’s rotation despite everything
I wonder how long it will take
I am not dancing in the sad world
I hear rain scribble facts about animals
I have kept a seat for you
I wait
I perform kleptomancy by casting stolen items out onto a beach towel in a parking lot
I am auriferous
I see two white ribbon eels streak across the night sky
I want to be like this forever sometimes
I Go to Sleep to Smell a Rose
Cold spring water
pours unceasingly
just like the moon
when hail strikes the skylight
and becomes a keyboard
clacking away
in my dream
where sticky events
release snowflake effluvia
when a rusty planet
turns me into a fool
reciting poetry
over the phone