1.

I recommend someone's notebook when her eyes are averted and the sun long gone 

has piqued her chastity to come in from impending rain in the form of droplets tapping on the roughly textured roof versus the cliched tin on which ringlets of precipitation cross boundaries and stimulate anxiety of the inhabitants. 

2.

Eavesdropping on the page as though with ear pasted to a door imploring sound to lead through whatever depth of wood (walnut?) may separate presence from presence, one of which is active; the other, passive. Speaking of voice, I would appreciate your vocalizing in your sleep, thinking cheek-to-cheek the way the romantic music goes. 

3.

U.S. 31/33 North means something related to release even if you are not political 

(I am only derivatively political: good at corp- pol- but not so much the holding office kind.

I thought for twelve minutes of running for justice of the peace then decided not.

4.

Sanctimonious I heard the tall man called 

who let's face it got everything he got due to height 

some research declares is correlated to achievement 

if you can call it that. Call it what you will call it shingles

on the roof with or without rain.

5.

Sitting just quietly sitting not meditating not looking not reading not looking out the window 

not noticing the wind is it terrible to be so individually contained.

6.

If only I can make it autumn again unsafe loved or unloved autumn clouds

recalling my weekly mango in Ann Arbor 

the relentless solitude loved hated in-between emotionless stance 

minus the sub always motion always in motion except

when in the language lab reciting rehearsing reciting

Middle English with perfect pitch easily 

scratched itch the sound of my voice

not singing speaking speaking the center of my mind

from the center of my mind 

the only holiness bereft of feeling.

7.

Seated among the staves where swiftness lacks sound

it must be backhand midnight the pools unused the tidy wind in the vast trees 

v-shaped disturbances disrobe fear 

is this a wake a dispirited quake among minions 

taking giving back mercies shown to the door

where batched catchphrases are spoken minus fluency.

8/

I would rather think about the geese at Chapparal Park in Scottsdale 

where we drive to for relief from sitting still. Of course I am inclined 

to talk beyond what's welcome, and the listener takes notice 

of the percentage of stories already legends, in the most polite sense, 

that inflate themselves into new discoveries I feel inclined to utter 

for some unexplainable reason except it's in my DNA. 

My parents numbered their jokes then laughed out loud 

before the internet abbreviations took us by the throat.

9.

My pinch of snark parks next to the affection within me that overtakes the typographical error of unkindness. I wince 

to convince myself that the rhombus neutralizes its pair of likenesses 

as we find ourselves sipping elderberry juice leaning toward each other 

mentioning midnight without rigor that might leave redundancy in the dust.