April First

What tricks
will the day play
on her, she wonders. And she wonders

which former
lover will seep
through the retaining wall. One from here

or one from back east.
Those two in California
were not always so far west. She’s not

a humorless bitch.
She repeats. Not a humorless
bitch—just because she’s not

laughing with the day.

Traffic Break

It’s been a year—I wouldn’t turn
to stone or tin
if I ran into you on the sidewalk
in the shadow

of your tower. That we haven’t crossed
paths since we decided to cross
each other off
the list is a sign. Our lanes

weren’t meant to merge
on any slope—slippery or not.