“One night, she wakes on the pavement to find that she has grown into one of those top-grade Japanese machines that sell everything: candy, ice cream, chips, drinks both warm and cold, each item neatly packaged and easy to give.”

“The poets will toast
to every falling leaf.
They might compose
drunk sonnets on change.
Or loss. Or death. I do not know
the difference while I live
on an island where the trees stay
the same throughout the year.”