The baby is a living bedside photo

The baby is a living bedside photo

    in his video monitor, in his crib. She wakes to watch his back raise and lower.

Open Concept

"Front Windows...," by Marine Nyiri and Audrey Anastasy

Open Concept

The dream of every American homeowner
To see across your home in one unbroken
expanse Shore to horizon The home as ocean
As perfect contained realm without fracture
or interruption Here is you cooking
even if you never cook Here is you washing greens
And there are your children playing on the floor
with a single red toy A wooden truck
Nothing is scattered around them No envelopes
on the countertops to tie your bodies to an address
This home is holy Between all of you
lustrous floors gray walls quartz countertop
subway tile backsplash without one fleck of mold
Your kitchen is a train station Is a train to carry you
toward what you see Toward what you almost see
If you just make this place gleam a touch more
maybe you can be the first humans allowed to not die

Sylvia Hotel

Sylvia Hotel

The ivy clad hotel
reddens with the coming cold

There is nothing that will not be changed
once it is touched

Even architecture
Even a hotel crouching on the beach's long hem
as it collects itself from sand into neighborhood

Even by air
as it brings to us what has not happened yet