The flesh of the persimmon is a bit
like Amanda’s ache – no end to it.
My husband likes to eat persimmons
with walnuts and has little patience
for Amanda’s daily braying. Tragedy,
he says, feeds narcissism. A mouth
can fall into a persimmon – no core,
no seeds, no membrane separating
wedges, slowing an appetite down.
I told the young man with violent eyes
there is something I want to ask you
shoot me
I told him take off your uniform
and show me your khaki skin
If she wrote to those she had wronged,
went down on her knees,
would that be enough to atone?
You must be doing something wrong.
Someone come back from the dead
to rebuke and, to endure.
Something significant in a fresh way
Starting in the middle
Submit no more
Consider
The point in the orbit of a heavenly body at which it is nearest to the earth