In El Paso, they're catching hailstones on the second bounce 

A crowded elevator—down to the lobby in a Jerry Lewis moment

Houses burned down—drawers stuffed with lifetime guarantees

He had no interest in viewing a lock of the murderer's dirty-blonde hair

My worry stone is a bloody spall

Ok, we're going in, and don't anybody hit their funny bones

Meadowsweet—where the French drains spill their guts

The earthwork mounds of the Monongahela—this heat

I'm not sure whether I would be considered a Delta

or an Epsilon—but I remember the shock and the flowers

He expects us to believe he merged 

with an out-of-breath song sparrow on his front lawn

He put peeling mica down as one of his hobbies

I probably shouldn't have taken my little brother by the hand to visit

the tire-flattened pigeon at the end of the block

Not a missed eyelet on this shift