For a long time, I went to bed early, always reluctantly, grumbling, cursing, and dragging my feet. The time to go to bed was suffering, a break from life, a phase that nothing or no one would eve ... [+]
wet breakfast, I comb my hair
and dress in a cleaner
shirt. in the kitchen,
you move bottles
off the table,
careful as a bulldozer
knocking houses
in palestine. the sun lands
on the front
of the building, twisting
like the face
of a sunflower. windows
gape open around us,
bringing light
and hairbrush-dry heat.