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Blame the juncos outside. Sopranos in one tree, altos in another.

No one was awake and I was hungover young as clean as a piano.

You have your apron on under your coat. We’ve got each other.

Yes, Sweetness, a white shadow shimmers on the X-ray of the future.

You and the cat wish I were baking pumpkin pie and we were happier.

A bunny the size of a teacup feasts in the clover, ears lit up in salt-pink light.

“Ki o tsukete!” she called, and he knew the words. Be careful.

The damn dog has been brainwashed. He doesn’t know
us anymore.

It was the way of the world: everybody wanted someone else.

I read an article and learn that the gloomy octopus has three hearts.