Light it the hundredth way to erase
shadow. What of ok, there are bats in the
attic that sound like people.
Say that there was
you and me and it was good for a time, say
I saw it fall away but the parking meter
kept ticking.

Three pennies in a load of whites the
operative intention where you do it wrong
and call me. The photograph is its own
trick but let us not be sorry, let us say, let
us look at the photograph.

Red car in the future speeding towards
the future. Half of your face dropping
an eyelid, and what if that’s where
the banister leads too?

This morning my hand like a barn-swallow
nesting pillows, shattered light, windows
tapped into rain.

And say that you just kept your head down.
This equation has no shame, say that you
just kept your head. Looked into a forest
blowing darkness and laughed.


In the beginning there was you and me
not speaking, and then the image
of a barn coming into focus. Say
that the car prefers light from a streetlamp,
innumerable names for its decay.

Wendy Xu is the author of THE HERO POEMS, a chapbook forthcoming from H_NGM_N BKS October 2011. Her work has appeared, or is forthcoming in The American Poetry Journal, ANTI-, CutBank, Drunken Boat and elsewhere. She co-edits iO: A Journal of New American Poetry and lives in Northampton.