Kate Greenstreet




How many times can you bang one small
body, he said, and have it not
be a form of torture.

Up a lot last night—waiting for the pain
to move. With the now discredited
fever, “traveling fever.”

When you notice that huge
parts of your

are missing. I made it out of what it looks like.
Ivory black, lamp black, mars
black, words from a book.

He’s gone to Rome, it’s his favorite city.
I call it “my black velvet”—that
day. That night, or day.



being followed


Years passed.
I looked back to see.

Answer the following questions with yes
or no or no one knows.

I had a small and frightening pain.
Aunt Patty called, in love with another dead guy.

Wrong number.
I regret our
bus routes
Our hidden drawer
Our off in the fog on foot

There were all these choices, these different kinds of people.
Who to kill, and
who not to kill.

the welders
the burners
Seeing the pictures behind the pictures.

Civil war
In my heart, I’m free.
But it’s so secret.