let’s no longer call night falling nor count deficit made I am to pick you up
an approximation green tie black sweater arrival clouds the day saves the life of time

a sprig a pattern on a wall from the word poverty each became that thing
entering the water longer heavy waves rolling heavy as it were where you are.

PABLO LOPEZ resides in Providence where he writes brittle lyrics addressed to emptiness: Like charcoal in the hands of a fool—it cannot be helped nor should it make flesh malignancy’s ballast.