57 pages, 5.5 x 8.5”.

Collected Poems 
1984 - 2004

Rotation

Say a potato chip truck overturns, spilling bags
of chips
across the highway.

Some drivers stop to guiltily pick up a few, smiling:

Potato chips for dinner.

How many of them will wake 
in the middle of the night 
and go into the living room 
to sit and stare, wondering

if the darkened house has somehow changed its axis?