In the Manner of SD
The day that I found art in my first name
Was the same day I saw hell in my last.
There was a girl there, of course,–
Touching a wet finger
To a postage stamp,
Pursing her lips
On the double bed.
I went to kiss
The cat-tongue rough
Of her each bent knee.
I was weak then, not yet a liar.
One of us had said,
What we do is our own business.
Then we broke the windows,
And looted the store.
“In the Manner of SD” is from Backwards Days (Penguin, October 2007), and was first published in Terminus.