Poetry

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...

On my walk I notice a hint of yellow on the arched branches of forsythia that grow over an old rock wall— the stones handpicked for fit not...

A streamlet of breath trickles into shuddering pink caves. Adjust the settings: percent oxygen, breaths per minute, tidal volume. Perhaps tidal volume charts the moon’s pull in anxious blood, a...

my mother says she has started to see things at the edge of her vision: mice, flies, general disturbers of her immaculate and germ-free peace. she...

Glimmer on the sidewalk August grit smells of old hotdog water pigeons bathing in fountains children running into fountains shimmying up fire-escapes and this whole damn apple wavy with summer stank and...

The woman behind me is talking to no one I can see. A juggler without apples or oranges she gestures wildly, and at the light I...

The yell that arose from the shallow grave at the base of my brain to interrupt my son as he reached for the late lone tulip— death-vaunting goth...

Every kiss that was ever kissed— every smile, every baby’s delight, a first step, a face that hides and comes back, a belly laugh—   every morning of gladness, gladness,...

  Image: "Black Hole Image Makes History" NASA Goddard Space Flight Center Photostream, licensed under CC 2.0.   Michael Leach: I was inspired to write the poem ‘Black...

Some saw a raven with ruptured feathers. Some smelled the homeless millions pressed inside a drop of blood. Some felt dark planets tilting. One planet, covered in...

Prologue to a Stutter his first language is himself the translation is running to catch up what you hear is the running * so near       his mouth— a tiny moth lands on his...

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...