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Poems

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  • A Story about the Bees

    I still have the bees

  • Why I Haven’t “Outgrown Surrealism,” No Matter What That Moron Reviewer Wrote

    I still love the sound of breaking,

  • What Santa Asked When Lord Russell Argued that “Santa Claus” was a Definite Description and not a Referring Expression

    I tell my students to heed four things and they will be fine.

  • April

    I think I will accept my life, the moment

  • Danger: A Triptych

    I thought at first it was a rock, a pebble my own tire had somehow kicked up in a weird curve.  I kept driving to my

  • The Arithmetic Teacher Living in Six Meticulous Fields of Sweet

    I thought I heard outdoors

  • Vortex Street

    I tied my hands behind me so I won’t hurt you.

  • Two Poems translated from the Arabic by Khaled Mattawa

    I told myself, why not

  • OLD LOVE LETTERS

    I too have my stack

  • EVERY MAP IS AN ISLAND

    I turned away from the paper

  • Country of Other Arrangements and Spinach Salad

    I used to be neatly folded, sound

  • Head of a Woman with the Horns of a Ram

    I used to curse the sidewalk ice