Zach Savich
Note
To say it and it won’t become information
Fruit sour before ripening, then sour and ripe
*
Anything starts in medias res if you say it
Leaving your house, even the cut grass smelled of basil
Envoy
I didn’t get around to mailing
The book so read it myself again
In sufficient snow
The widest street becomes a one-lane road
What will I miss last
So open the window to let in rain
It spares the river
The antidote to the placebo is
You take it
