BROKEN NUMBERS by Brian Foley

the woman in the car next is singing the same song as me
& the man in the car next is singing the same song, an old want-
not we pack the world with, it puts away nights
& won’t take money. For an answer there has to be a hitch
to stand up to to quiet the vinegar, so long ago
divorced we hardly notice its once blue appeal,
its lot of cheap space giving us tone. In my radio, the roads turn
to reach around in the old way. A hydrant opens, sweeps the sidewalks
but nothing is lost. Friends, I want to take care of you

New everyone is at PINWHEEL