ANNIE
I. Lament for Annie
The pink door on Locust streetsits slightly ajar.Once grand,now suffering at the hands of too many strangerswho have no idea where...
Sea Monster
A secret: all the oceans are one oceanAnd the ocean looks the same everywhere.Nevertheless, let us praise the white hour,When the depths disappear...
Bourgeon continues its celebration of Women in Translation Month.
Rationing
In the line a woman shoutsthere’s flour
I think of warm biscuits
Soon I hearonly rice is leftbut...
art opening
instead of a gun
you use a camera
amputees
are your subject
/these poor people/ you say
the walls of the gallery are dark
prints pinned neatly under spotlight
//life...
LACUNA
Another sun unfurlsover chewing gumcanyons, long gnawedby your foothold.
A corpus colossus,hippocamping: you couchin fault lines, hammockedwhite matter.
Stroke mewith each toss-turn —a neuron-starved bender.
Hypoxia will...
