The Disintegration of the Face of Memory
after Dali
We’re in gym class with arms spread open
turning like flattened windmills
making safe space making enemies.
Everyone I pass carries an unreasonable
appendage propped in the...
Retreat
The first quarantine happened when I was fifteen and my white blood cells were raging in my brain. Autoimmune Encephalitis— abrupt and unrelenting madness...
Outlander Blues
after quarantine binge-watching
I did not stay up to pen a poem
while screening Scottish history
slipshod neo-porn
with unaccented moans.
This series has got me going
five episodes a...
Stay Close to the Willows
Is a country way of sayin’
remain near home,
don’t venture far,
keep nearby.
Once you embody shadow
under the pine’s umbrella
and grace the riverbank,
turn around, go no farther.
A...
Clueless Jogger Manifesto in the Age of Social Distancing
I am a jogger, an outside-only jogger. Outside I am moving so quickly that I cannot calculate six feet between myself and slowpokes who walk. I keep moving. I am a moving missile, rocket flying horizontal.
Your Fire and Thunder
Dr. Li Wenliang, who was the first to sound the alarm on the outbreak of the pandemic, died in Wuhan a year ago, on...
Farmer’s Market in Pandemic
The Saturday rite is now a drive-by:
we’re all laid back in our masks
awaiting our turn. The line
stretches far down the street;
no one expects to...
Pandemics and Pasta: Sustenance in the Viral Age
Tonight, I am roasting ripe Heirloom tomatoes with onions, garlic, and olive oil in a 400-degree-oven while a blend of mushrooms, garlic, and white...
Intensive Care
No figures here but pulse, breath and pressure;
no metonymy of fate but a real hand
cold upon a real sheet.
What could any actor speak more...
Song at the End of the Mind
I think of you as a radio frequency—
sometimes hard to find
as I touch the illuminated dial.
But tonight you arrive
murmuring into my ear in halfsleep;
you...
valentines day
++++this day
I wasn’t in my body anymore.
spineless in the reflection
of widespread windows
barriers of glass doors
closing, needles and
beeping and jumpsuits
eyes and warm sheets.
I met many...
To Live in Interesting Times
The fluorescent light seems to struggle
against death. Not dead yet, the fixture
pulses every few or several seconds
bequeathing humility to the shadows.
The light is beacon-like...