How To Eat
Poems get written from watching closely as things happen each its own yet entangled with the rest of us and working with those links. Most experiences…
Over Here
A wall of clocks in an antique shop consuming the time they make self-feeders accurate within a century or two no two read quite the same…
After Easter
salvation offered needs another name whose syllables like fingers search the patch of mud we trample daily as unchanged not needing labels useless loss…
O Reader
O reader, poem’s art-imated ear settles as ours not effortless but joined to our confusions as her own, not clear but clearing, wanting all…
Breaking the Line
1. The bridges are still burning over the Rhine, the Seine, the Tennessee our running feet can barely take the heat, our shoes…
Ingots of Silence
From some foreign mental refinery melted and molded bricks of stuff fall into our hands out past iron doors glowing radiant of light and heat…
Feeding Ritual
The wild have saved for us what we’ve hurried to abandon the jerky walk of small birds on a…
The First Question
The first question has never been asked the one with no history, before before we didn’t know…
Playing Us
A moon tonight red as a hammered thumb a clown’s impossible nose held in place with an obvious string Another…
Appendices
Extras, stand over by the wall prettiest up front, smart ones in the back in fact the smart ones can…
The Dog Star 