Thrownness
A choice? Not one of those.And now Martin with his thrownness.I am a javelin with dangling heredity legs.Booster cables for the heart's long winter.Salamander-crawled...
Time is a surgeon
I am a spoke.Turning clockwise, notat all the wiser.Choices dig their roots intosoil without my consent but Iwater them anyway.A mossy...
Thirst, Greece
From a photo by Herbert List, 1939
A slender forearm in shadowelbow on a tablefingertips contemplating a tumbler of ouzoindex finger raised from the...
When We Were Young
Each moment was thick,pearled into droplets,
not yet thinned.The clink of dishes. The rustle
of hymnal pages turning. Dust moteshovering in a sunbeam....
Easter Night
After a long sleep, I wake,long after the chill of sunrise services in parks,after high heels sinking into wet grass,after even late morning...
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...
