Previously Published Poems

Bury Me

        tell me   wet limestone flinching coral reefs   what’s it like to always be night   tell me   what is it to be rooted in shadow to speak without the screams of bright   what is it to not even ask for much   I had been escaping into…

Three Oranges in the Morning

              but last night there were four until he muddled the body of the orange with a reasonable rye   we thought what we afforded each other was more than sensory and less than waste   until he dropped the rind down the disposal   letting the aroma press…

The Seventh Year

          How did the spider conceive of   the thread inside her head—   How can I after tucking   so deeply inside your web—       Originally Published By: The Wax Paper  

How to Shrink the Admygdala

To make what Makers make you must first set your fear aside. Leave it like you’ve left the water so many times. Let it roll over rocks and chip, let it dry out and flake off like summer’s skin before it’s time to get serious again. They say all our fear comes from a small…

How to Enter a Cold Pool

  Run toward the water. Remember how good it feels to be surprised by something more powerful than yourself. Realize there has been a stream running through you all along, take this as a lesson for abundance. Look the water straight in her eye. Pretend the water hides the same animal you’ve encountered deep in…

Sperm

          Color of the sun unhooking, sinking into and under the river while there’s white sperm between my fingers again.   Color of heavy water when it moves, the way luster lets you know it’s alive. Runner, a daughter in the way   of the wind during the dewy time of…

Dessert

        no one was hungry after dinner but the ripe figs were beginning to burst   and we couldn’t let sufficiency get in the way of what was splendid   it was always summer for the fiend who wanted everything   the spun sugar sings how   craving is infinite  going forward…

Habits

          Languor        I hear   is a terrible way to waste one’s life.   I hear             speed cannot be taught—   which can get you thinking if you like that sort of thing.   To swap the tea for tequila. To trade the imperial for a travail.      …

Bordeaux 2000 Deconstructed

              The whole year lacks tension someone says, but not for the spider who comes up   from the cellar on the bottle of Bordeaux, not for someone else who kills it by   staining the label with tiny organisms. Someone is talking about the German   who cut…

Stomach

            Whatever enormous animal the night was was lingering. But the mind has the reason it needs. Then the butterflies, in their slight advertisements of paradise, flew, the piece in me of you. And the stomach grew legs and said, we’re going places now.         Originally Published…