Amy Lipkin
t h i n g s  t h a t  f a l l  a p a r t

elvis presley is my dead celebrity boyfriend
              approximate elvis:
my dad used dixie peach brilliantine to shine his elvis pompadour

              he still has a can,
                           rusted shut behind the mirror

we canít go on together with

someone really needs to do a punk rock version of suspicious minds

my nails are growing i stopped biting them          i miss it

i donít know)     what to do about my love life
he ran back to a tumbling house

our relationship
is like
my paintings

              white on white

i know a secret place
where the clovers
are all five- and six-leaf

once,    when i was twelve,
i picked as many as i could
i kept them in my pocket
i shook plant dust

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