when it’s the psychopathy of society
or the classical descent
into madness by the sea.
when We’re Here.

when her teeth are finally ship-shape.
When researching the look of Ereshkigal for familiarity.

when the closer is so lame.

when you’re on the road to Boise—
named from the relief of woodlined water
for travelers, for trappers crossing
the Snake, the year I was born.