(Franceso Millefiori, “Sandpit: Bagheria, Italy,” 2007)

Small Fear
The cracked blue egg
on the step
and cast of cold-sweat
shadow underneath
the sycamores
when I nearly missed
the oncoming car:
this marked the beginning
of what I thought
was motherhood.

Psychic, Open for Business
One day you just have it.
If you don’t know what I mean
I can’t explain—OK let me try.
For example, Tom, in the Valley,
uses cats and adolescent girls.
The stuff is good but scattered
like a desert radio, between the hip-hop
and the Spanish evangelical.
Others have dreams that find the dead,
but you know, and I know, that we already
know where those poor souls are.
Me, I just got the sign
—awesome, Technicolor, unambiguous—
and I set it up out front.