Poetry

Consider a life in the time it takes your phone to wink dark *** On the prison camp raining and then not raining *** September... he yawns like a lion with his frosty beard *** ...

January The days are short, The sun a spark, Hung thin between The dark and dark. Fat snowy footsteps Track the floor. Milk bottles burst Outside the door. The river is A frozen place Held ...

-For Cecilia A spirited play for words, like a December wind punching your breath Back down through your esophagus; a resolute sense of commitment Like the bold disregard maple, chicory, and sumac pay at summer’s ...

Censored Into a crock of gold he’d set some weeds, Behold swart devils in the sunniest weather; He would lump the saint and the courtesan together, Most miserably jangling all the creeds. The prurient multitude ...

The Antique Harvesters Tawny are the leaves turned but they still hold, And it is harvest; what shall this land produce? A meager hill of kernels, a runnel of juice; Declension looks from our land, ...