Marigolds
The season is ripe and the seeds take rootin the caverns of my eyes.Spindling roots with secret urgency,tying knots from hidden capillaries.Soon,in a gesture...
SURFACES
Winter’s hand. Damp streets. Morning’s glareon clouded windows. March the third.
Light whittles branches to brushstrokes.We are not fooled by the appearance of things.
Fear in...
Between(triple haiku)
I must grow leanerWith thought and age: from wine toWater, beef to broth.
Between here and there,Should a man of decline choosePrayer over repair?
When...
Section/Grave/Block, Flushing NY
“Charon, the ferryman of the dead, his hand on the boat-pole, calls me now: ‘Why are you tarrying? Make haste, you hinder...
drought anatomy #4
dried out creek beddry stacked stonethe limbs of a woodstove, relatively ancientscattered leaves dropped off their rusty hingesthe vestigial chaos of the...
atlas goes under
hanna’s outer band bears down on the man.waves impound concrete piles on north padre island. a mist-maker, circling in his pen,
hurls the...
Drive to Thinness
Did the sound of the clicking hooves cause you to starve yourself?
Like a poor scavenger,you fed on scraps of sin and servitude,injecting...
Sunday Best
he blows dandelions for his babies in the corner store parking lotin their Sunday best, following this morning's sermontheir wishes scatter across the...
