josette akresh-gonzales

pretend Facebook doesn’t exist even though its little

red dots punctuate your brain in exquisite exclamation-

point fantasies / in context / Google ways to listen

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to a son whose small sad face is

a tinfoil reflection of your own / the last white rhino

has died / search the front page of the internet

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for signs of us / crunchy brown weeds underfoot

in the backyard / the BBC documentary

broadcasts a lithe posh woman in a red knit dress

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caressing a miniature wooden chest made

for the baby queen / in your living room Jupiter’s

spot vanishes / the snow drifts against the window pane

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shotty memories of a day in June when / at the top

of a mountain in Vermont you took a huge bite

of a salami sandwich and rested your back

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on a flat rock while your son whose melancholy is

yours played Minecraft at his grandma’s desktop

translate this / the colors of the hideaway garden

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are even better than the real thing