Poetry

1. On the darkest days of pandemic I avoid the rooms with the tools I could easily use to kill myself. I’ve almost certainly witnessed a few animals die of their own volition. Squirrels, insects, a...

I’ve left the old Juilliard building, am waiting for the #5 bus in the dusk of my first October in New York. Strolling by, three trick-or-treaters smack me...

Such a windless day, you lie on our driveway, after sniffing on a forest trail. I sit down, put you on my lap. Your red curly coat glows; your...

The red of the port scar near her heart of the Citgo sign’s glow when I turn to the window of my eyes from watching her in the infusion...

I am learning there is a single horn    growing from the top of my head Because it is invisible no one can take it from me When I walk down...

“Like a swift migrating fish, the word cellulite has suddenly crossed the Atlantic.” —Vogue (April 15, 1968) Come, sea ripple. Come, ocean swell of the world that...

Late spring, nights still cold, the stars clear as spotlights, people I love keep dying. Every week a different shocking loss: cancer, gunshot, embolism, suicide, on and...

In the beginning there was no name for the soft slippery thing inside me — but it demanded to be held. Like a child that could...

In a countryside green as a dollar bill, with the much handled commercial vegetation from around mall parking lots or in freeway divides, in a landscape where...

When I asked you to take off +++++your neon orange trucker hat to sit for a photo between two trees, +++++I did feel embarrassed for you, awkward to...

A Pangyrus selection for Juneteenth. ancestry is all i have / the only artform that remains / how else to explain this oscillating darkness / my id...

“...because even the soul is a creature...” - Meister Eckhart you’re here, telling me how a disease survives in saliva & blood & water & it’s swift mutation to rancid wine...