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In the Late Style of Eros

Loneliness is a female shark who circles the tank repeatedly, feigning interest in aesthetics, before finally eating the male. The pleasure’s in not yielding to mere lust, or despair. Why bother telling you you look like a man I loved,


Joel and Ethan Coen, 2006     … death heightens every tension and permits us fewer of the half-truths by which we normally live. Laurence Durrell     This is No Country for Old Men. The young Llewellyn Moss, a Texan

Almost Lost Moment

Almost Lost Moment coming back in an incidental way, claiming to be the most beautiful moment of my life:  braiding her waist-length white hair by the Pacific at LaPush.  Hand over hand, the three-way crossings of apportioned strands, and quiet,


I. The heart in vital meter recites. A beat on a childhood table strikes. It strikes. I hear my mother sigh. Plates of grape-leaves, her lemon light, strung on a sacred sigh above my every bite. I couldn’t tell why

Two Poems

“the ugly purple corpse I lug behind me” the ugly purple corpse I lug behind me with all I’ve got, down a blind upholstered hallway: (still inside the big house on Corso Matteotti it appears): swaddled in rags and damp

Two Poems

In My Thorn Dream   The thing is the delicacy of the interwoven twig-vest hovering, not quite touching, but breathing a little when I breathe as wreath and wraithe prickle and twitch inside in the organ the dream drinks its

Ode to My Dap

Soon as I get my dap down I’ll ride uptown and find an all-night salon where Yvonne will synth my Brylcreem with Afro Sheen, my flat-ironed world with Jheri Curl. I’ll wheel and burn my way to the back of


We each were given three licks for throwing snowballs against the side of the school and making them stick.  It snowed so rarely we didn’t know what snow could do.  Lessons were over but we were lingering outside before we


It’s 3 AM. The crows on one leg or none are already starving for infant nests. A few leaves hang on still. A prayer of godwits enters the dream from the upper left quadrant. No, I tell the dream-maker,  

Dog in the Manger

As if you’d keep your bones from other dogs when you were done with them. What nonsense! In any case, why manger? That Christmas child slept in the barn with sheep and cows, not dogs. And doggerel? your bark is


It’s snowing all the time at the south pole of Enceladus Which is a moon of Saturn With the loveliest name And the brightest object in the solar system Reflecting 98% sunlight Its surface like the best powder day So

May Cause

Tinnitus, uncharacteristic willingness to ascend ladders, early estivation, fruity urination, tendency to jump off a train in the Carpathians to investigate a ruined abbey, frequent antichrists, cardiac upheavals see pages 3 to thirty thousand, using a pitchfork to fold towels,

Two Poems

To a New Chair   The room is ready for you, dear. I’ve cleared everything out, Whatever is left is yours. From now on, I’m beside the point. As long as I sit still, Your wings will carry me far.

Two Poems

Why I’m Here   I have no clue-it was weird, yes but I would say molested but not abused like the one here who was raped repeatedly and caged or that one chained four hundred days to a radiator… But,

Three Poems

Father Enters the Water In life, he would walk into the water slowly until it reached his waist and stand there for a while, his arms out to the side, fingering the water, looking at the horizon.  Then at last