When the sunset crests the top of the hill, the light retreating like peeling tangerines, Rosa tosses orange slices into a lagoon.
I don’t walk how I used to and I piss on almost everything: / doorframe corners, the humming refrigerator ...
on smalley avenue i brought back a baby with / a heartbeat like the relics of rain dripping off a rooftop.
On the day Lolo died, he remembered the important thing: the flowers needed to be watered in the mornings.
I’m trying to remember that prayer, / something something I’m sorry for all my sins— / because passed the pinhole in the backyard
