Leitmotif

poetry
  Brightness scatters across the sky, pulses against leaves like a strobe-light. I’m back to asking for something to believe in: breath of sky between trees, sun blotting the hills.…

Futurity

poetry
  I start in the direction toward old town, pigeons in my wake. Imagine futures emerging in mimetic desire, children   Return to the fog, finding the seams     …

if the Maya played a game

poetry
  trying to get a ball through a stone hoop or trying to keep the ball in the air perhaps reenacting the creation myth or keeping the sun and moon…

this poem appears in

poetry
  a nice day        a good price a Sears catalog studied all night a changing room that makes you want to pee as if the bar just closed          …

Self-portrait in a Heat Wave

poetry
  As if the underworld were breaking through, lake beds from Uzbekistan to California emerge relinquishing their litter— suicides, the murdered, the accident- prone who one time slipped beneath the…

Self Portrait in a Heat Wave

poetry
  As if the underworld were breaking through, lake beds from Uzbekistan to California emerge relinquishing their litter – suicides, the murdered, the accident prone who one time slipped beneath…

An Octopus Has Three Hearts

poetry
  I was handed down a skewed spine, my father’s melancholy eyes, my mother’s disapproving mouth, hands with skin so fine that I’m impossible +++to fingerprint, the flat certainty in…

Mother Butterfly Hopes

poetry
  Cocooned under the covers, I’m pinned by bitterness, gnawed to the core. The son, Spock, with anger management problems, versus mom, whose reservoir dried up after the water table…

How to Survive

poetry
  Stop doing it just because it is all there is to do, though this does not mean there will be other Things to do: Choose a part of you…

Self-portrait as Aftermath

poetry
  Like a camera whose lens contracts when it’s too bright, I try to mitigate what hurts. I watch the bare branches in pink winter light, a pillow under my…

Amnesty

poetry
  Too whiny by half, that disarray of bluejays— don’t listen. Tree limbs scribble shadows on the street; leaves shuffle. Four trash bins— blue and green—stand equidistant on the curb.…