Ann Arbor

I took you from Dayton
to spoil your fun. It worked
in the way we
work at food, at football
games, us torn through mud,
our loving laundry.

We can only play
house for so long.
I want to blow up balloons
for our misunderstandings.

There is nothing on
the way to your house
even when I reverse
direction and stop to
hear the gulls
flashing slowly like
wheels in the winter sun.

I drop to your belly like a thorn.

The snow cows at the window outside.
Jerks you back, don’t it?
I remember the words but
they only revolve in my hearing,
I only hear the gloves
hissing my way.

Look at my dirty face, look
how it charms you though I am not
good company. There is no
telling what I will say
tonight through the bedroom
window. There is no telling
how I will earn your bed.