January 30
Walking the cold street
at 1 in the morning,
everything seems simple.

Even in the sky:
a ring around the moon.
February 26
Cockroach on the cupholder
in the bathroom —
slender, delicate legs, 
like a ballet dancer.
(I kill her.)
March 27
Up unusually early —
8 a.m. —
I notice that people’s noses
are bigger
in the morning,
probably because their
eyes are smaller.
November 29
Looking at myself
in the bathroom mirror,
saying over and over,

“Funny-looking guy!”
Poem On Wall
YOU CAN
ERASE THE
NAME BUT
NOT THE
FAME, I wanna
live for
ever!
Dream
I meet my father
on a train.
He’s dead, but he comes back
to life on special occasions.
He’s wearing a suit, and
looks splendid.
“What’s it like to be dead?”
I ask him.
He smiles s1ightly.
“It’s like a salami sandwich,”
he says.
“You don't even notice it.”