cicada's hymn
Untitled
Untitled
Your name has become muscle memory for me. The atavistic tendencies of time travel. Sweet billowing hills laying rampant like a red carpet....
My little sister is beautiful.She has our father’s eyes, brown.Her mother’s skin—light, blinding.
Something in her skin draws meand I look like a confused scribble,a...
To the
Poet—S. K.—
on Channel WNET-13
Your unexpected
radiance lightens the gloom
in Brooklyn. You hunch;
you sit by the sea.
Rumbling like the rumpled waves,
your voice splashes me....
The divorce.
The final chapter of
our union
tells of bone deep chagrin-
the dumb utter of
'I feel statements'
plays itself like a mantra,
useless invocations found
in the crumpled leaflets
from...
Dog Pack
The dog loves the woman.
I
think of Thumper (dumbass name)
named
by dumbass couple, Bedford, NY.
She
didn’t need no lousy name.
I don’t need a word, she...
Winter Solstice
We drive in the darkpast the open fieldsinto the neighborhood:Millions of lights on the housesin the trees—the world a-twinkle with hopewhile overhead a...
Street Scene
Early evening heat rises frompavements, from cement and asphalt,carrying a scent slightly sour,slightly acrid—oily and tar-like.
Outside the café, beyond its fenced-intables, a large...
