Poetry

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

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...

Dr. Li Wenliang, who was the first to sound the alarm on the outbreak of the pandemic, died in Wuhan a year ago, on...

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...

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...

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...

“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...

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...

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...

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...

In the study of comparative trauma, it is important to ask how much have you suffered, and is it enough? Hello, are you still breathing? No, this is...

He uses your full first name right from the start, and you let him because neither of you intends to stay: he'll go home and so will...