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Poems

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  • Firing My Father’s Mossberg

    At the shooting range,

  • ANY SINGLE THING | OFFERS OF SKY | THE EQUATION MUST BE BEAUTIFUL

    At the shooting range,

  • Carbide

    As he approached the river a little Fiat drew off the main road and parked among

  • Snow Day, by Jerome Sala

    The camera in the other room points and clicks

  • Pink is the Navy Blue of India

    Flea market guy tells me the pornos are five dollars

  • Reflection

    I am a lion

  • The Bird that Begins it

    In the world-famous night which is already flinging away bits of dark but not

  • Tolstoi Learned to Ride a Bike at an Age When Most of Us Cash in Chips by Annette Barnes & Stuart Friebert

    There we were, watching the parade, while he climbed up

  • Far Country

    When you were in that country

  • Creek

    Now it is easy to find where the creek dwindles, where it thickens at last, where its

  • Travel Light

    By all means take my suitcase, which now again

  • Trouble

    And so it took shape, & from what.