Shit or piss

The government has decreed that no person may shit or piss outside of the toilets they are yet to build, so the people sit, squatting, by the roadside, to be picked up or struck down, waiting for relief.

FEBRUARY MOON

for Stephanie

Wind rushes in a vortex around the courtyard outside your bedroom. Needles cling to their boughs as air currents make their turns and rattle the rickety windows of the old apartment building. And there you are, in bed, limbs wrapped in currents of warm blankets and a stuffed dog, the room silvered with the chill of the bright February moon; your face in the state of still that sleep brings.

Strange delights

The moon is hanging low in the sky like a warm, heavy ball of dough tonight. Last week I laughed at a song because it flirted with me. It's been 25 years, and I have only now thought to ask whether you like to dance.