He looks at the sections laid out on the floor as if he knows what it has gone through to get here. He’s not rushing, like usual, but working slowly, handling each piece with reverence.

The Organ

That was who my grandmother was. Stern and floral-coated and thick down to her ankles. She took meanness from the world and pruned its thorns and used the rest to floss her teeth.

A Pound of Cure

Praise the nerves, praise the nervous–
the child in first grade afraid for no good reason

Psalm for the Nervous System