To receive the newsletter, SIGN UP
For premium content and the print edition, SUBSCRIBE
Advertisement

Shelter

Went to the meditation but only the snowed-in cardinals heard me. Far from any port, we’re weighted by anchors made of phantoms. A few minutes of...

Hart Island

look, proof from satellites: mass graves on Hart Island, an old plot of land I never knew existed & never thought to visit. the unnamed & unclaimed, the...

Ventilators in Demand

(they) don’t want    mass panicsnakes for your ankles snakes for your (body)                  everyone maybe gets their own (air pumps a...

The New Math

March 2020 My daughter pots plants in the desert. In the desert, pandemic is elsewhere. Or that’s the theorem. If the proof is in percentages, I tell her to...

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...

Lament in Time of COVID

This morning’s news comes as relentlessly as it has for weeks, and today I watch as Hasidic Jews bury their dead by the hundreds in Brooklyn, rabbis sitting...

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...

Two Poems: Youth and To Silence

Youth Youth is a pig, a certain nervousness. Blindly, youth trots in, makes its noise. Its comma-mouth keeps running on. You grow comfortable with youth, stay up each night. At every...

First a light, then–

“Tag, you’re it,” cancer says and you fall down the hole, you or someone you love. Your father, a friend from work, the wife of the youth...

Wednesday, March

I demand a day without so much fucking sky. Or, so much brown earth, flattened as though rolled and pinned by the muted white firmament. I loved it...

Midnight in Quarantine

The coyote has long since gone but the old pit bull still barks at the edge of the chain link fence for hours without pause. I lie in...

Thousand

For R.C. At the market we’d bought a pomegranate, weighed its cheeks in rubies for luck. I set my knife to halve it, kneeling in the grass between...