I can’t tell you why it’s a thing

but it is.

 

If you are a chemist or legislator

you can’t say this.

 

The Fiat was parked on a tree-lined street

and it moved me.

 

This is my new suit,

vintage chic.

 

Tatty, the truth is, but let’s hear it

for the kittens.

 

Martina McBride’s Everlasting Tour:

tough, logistically.

 

Nothing lasts forever

in the cold November rain: tougher.

 

A basket of something warm

under a napkin.

 

I feel badly about bringing this

to the neighbors.

 

They have a baby

and only one of us has been sleeping.

 

One advances at a particular

rate of speed.

 

A train pushes through apple country—

millions of apples

 

and a few wet leaves on the roof

of your mouth.

 

*

Dan Kaplan is the author of Bill’s Formal Complaint (The National Poetry Review Press) and the bilingual chapbook SKIN (Red Hydra Press). His work appears in VOLT, American Letters & Commentary, Denver Quarterly, Ninth Letter, Washington Square, and elsewhere. He is managing editor and poetry co-editor of Burnside Review and Burnside Review Press.