For my beloved      ones, a temporary stay of execution. Read more →

Awake, passersby!      Lilies aim flaming bugles— trumpeting July. Read more →

    In a window corner, an inspired spider     has spun unwittingly a perfect bowl     for collecting raindrops: miniature crystal balls     for predicting insect or human futures in. Read more →

What belongs here is lungs exhausted by waiting cars, oil-dark hands flashing in dim light; concrete floors cold even in summer; grime-stained waiting chairs; air smudged from cigarette smoke and the near, incessant traffic— in our ears the all-day whine persists in echo all night. What doesn’t belong is a grown man’s tears or fainting, even once—twice is reason to… Read more →

An awkward unbeautiful ferry, too big for the room it sailed in— whose slanting metal bars did nothing to keep the rough sea out, but appeared to keep my father in, clinging as he did to one with his too-thin arm, and tilting his gaze to see around them: such a transforming, grateful, smile for an offering so small: such… Read more →

Because he likes cats, he doesn’t realize how like a dog he pets her—with the patience bordering on impatience one allots a too affectionate dog; petting and worrying she might do something distasteful or inappropriate—lick his legs, drool, or show an unwelcome interest in his crotch, when all he wants is to leave with his conscience clear: she wants affection;… Read more →

Whoever invented that particular violence, stripping one by tenuous one the original daisy’s petals and finding an answer in injury was right. Read more →

I never stopped to consider its less illicit pleasures: its syllables tumbling so readily off the tongue, the tongue slapping lightly, repeatedly, the roof of the mouth, the mouth left open, as if with expectation, or in surprise, or song—this solo which leaves you alone, holding the final note. Read more →

The hill our house is on     seems steeper each day, and the house shifts uneasily     on its foundation. Trees lean as I walk, and I hear     strange new animals in the woods. Something      is splitting mountain into rock with great haste— strewing angular fragments      on the ground, filling the brook      with sharp teeth as it widens, creeping… Read more →

I say no sex is worth dying for, no man worth living with—nevermind for— I say Caution comma is my new first name, my old first name, my last— I say not even Death will know me. I know the first bite of any apple’s best, the one the mouth’s juices leap to meet, whose sweet sting laves the tongue’s… Read more →