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Poems

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  • Magical Thinking

    My dog does not question

  • Reading Heidegger Brings a Wild Joy

    My discovery of your essential thingness

  • CALLING BACK | CHARITY

    My daughter sings in snow falling through the scent of red oak or ash, some of the flakes large enough to contain passages from Emily Dickinson’s letters. 

  • One of a Series

    My daughter sees the sky from another angle, slate-blue reflected in a lake called living. 

  • My Courbet, by Jonathan Galassi

    My Courbet

  • Elegy & Brooklyn, 1957

    My brother told me we would join the Wide

  • A Controlled Substance

    My brother is late again, somehow the glass

  • Two Poems

    My brain is such a bully—wash your face, comb your hair,

  • Three Poems

    Mud to your waist. Beside you, six men probing with broken

  • Boothill Graveyard and Boyden Cemetery

    mrs suicide : mrs arsenic : mrs dance hall girls quarreling over a man :  mrs descriptive murder in the streets of tombstone

  • MR. DARCY TALKS

    Mr. Darcy talks to the same woman

  • SUNDAYS | ALONE

    Mournful Sunday afternoons in winter,