some resolute. A black-capped chickadee
stalks the sideporch. Folds into

a break in the screen. i have not been this close
to anyone in days. The chickadee shelters underneath secondhand

lamp and we watch thinwinged suffocation

Every Tuesday Forever

underneath the overhang
of this grog shop i huddle
watch foglight reflections
scold young reckless toying
with lightning-bugs
my hair drinks eaveswater
slow drip

breathless midnight in south meriden

our biological familiarity
makes me fear how I’ll grow
like I always do            sensitivities 
seventeen and already full 
capacity, though really it’s arbitrary 
to my beliefs growth is not taught 
by molding coffee cups
and disorder. 

i feel lemonade sticky, all quilted over my own existence

two poems 

“my hands are heavy. i’ve been screaming a lot. maybe too much” & “Go Ahead and Call Me Anything but My Name” & ”when am i going to get a better head?”

three poems 

They Won't Let [Us] / Drive Late At Night

"I wish I could adopt a new shade” I told myself

if babushka married a different man
if i went home in a different shopping cart
if we could just be, just be taste of / greasy seafood and pavement
if i didn’t put my last body in the compost, 
if we met before our own respective 
	         rebirths.

jude ehmka

Selected work