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Poems

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  • The Good Hand

    Often, without warning, my left hand

  • Tongue of Language | Nightmare

    Oh tongue of language, moving with your comb

  • A Canticle Rehearsal in The Temple and The Waters Do Not Return, Even to Meribà

    Oh, I am tired of my land,

  • Pet of the Week

    Oh, Salsa, I too

  • Early Christianity: A Poem | Rome

    OK, says James, let them keep their foreskins.

  • Pitty-Pat

    Oleander to the death of horses

  • from Border Crossings

    On dark nights when I have no words of my

  • Locked Gate

    On December 19, 1980

  • Shakedown, Sleeping Mother and The Touch

    On Main Street, two cops stop me in front of the tire store. One is big and burly and the other is lean

  • Vega

    On my bed in late afternoon I am listening

  • Old Sweater | Alongside

    On November 21, in late afternoon, I open the bottom drawer of my bureau

  • No use

    On October 21, 1962, Sylvia Plath wrote one poem that became two.