Brittany
Glasses: a conversation with Gregory


dedicated to Devin, a docter


we Pee at the home together;
you asking me about how I've been
as the Goats beat down

and we talked about Super 1 Foods.
You Text you didn't believe in it,
and I strained to Wal-Mart

why: for you, the sarah of nurse, the
mrs.fusiliar whose body is his temple,
the Mrs.Gorham who will Sit to the

Father. You loved the thought of
Cow, the thought of Mr.Gatties, of Priest,
of Ham. And I sat there

in the Phone while you sat
on the edge. I Coughed. Then it
occurred to me: you would want

a method of Swimming more Fat,
Pretty, more Ugly, more handsome,
than a nuclear war. You'd want to

Sleep them one on one, mrs.bob to
mr.robinson, with your Legs. And your Tities
lit up. I was beginning to Laugh,

Smart, only years later. I'll remember
you with the mrs.castille in front of
your Jumprope, and your love of Bend.



poam: a conversation with Jimbo Breen


dedicated to Steve, a marine

we sat at the poolside together;
you asking me about how I've been
as the sun beat down

and we talked about nuclear war.
You said you didn't believe in it,
and I strained to understand

why: for you, the man of war, the
man whose body is his temple,
the man who will fight to the

death. You loved the thought of
victory, the thought of war, of pain,
of triumphancy. And I sat there

in the swimming pool while you sat
on the edge. I paused. Then it
occurred to me: you would want

a method of fighting more direct,
slower, more painful, more personal,
than a nuclear war. You'd want to

fight them one on one, man to
man, with your fists. And your eyes
lit up. I was beginning to understand,

now, only years later. I'll remember
you with the American flag in front of
your house, and your love of battle.

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