These are new poems, newish poems.
"The mind flows a river that murders someone.
I'll fold the door in half for you, crease it with an elbow
so as to keep a face that greets the world.
There had been all this talk about the old miracle.
When you heal the lock you heal the forgiven.
But a river is a door more than a window.
Close friends and relatives might tell you otherwise,
tell you millions are falling in love with the idea
that NASA raved about the elastic physics, the principles
of temperature and force behind the slightest obligations.
Every water bird I've surveyed ignored it.
My drowned women ignore it.
Once, I stared at a river until I blacked out.
And it wasn't like a window slid open to an abuzz.
Sight became sound into a river.
My mind fell through my asshole, almost.
Really, a river is a door until it opens."