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Poems

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  • Who Will Plant the Seeds of Svalbard and Orchard Fruit: Grafting

    as far north you go     as night you go night 

  • Whose Sky, Between | Rape of America. So, it appears

    A name that meant sound of an owl’s hard fall, another day of blood gunned to al

  • Why I Hate Nudist Camps

    Wayne had already flung off his t-shirt, pulled off his black Khakis to set up our tent—I can work faster if I'm naked

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

    I still love the sound of breaking,

  • Why I Started Writing a Novel

    Earlier today I started writing a novel out of the simple

  • Why I’m Here | Unbearable

    Why I'm Here

  • WHY WE NEED UNIONS

    If the lion wants more

  • Widow

    You cannot consider yourself a widow just because the full moon has gone

  • Wild Yeast & Kiss and Tell

    What color is Shakespeare?

  • Wilderness

    The mind is a wilderness like Bartram’s, razed, cemented over, marked by rows

  • Wilhelmina Shakespeare

    Blond hair, blue eyes, buck teeth:  we taunted you

  • Will flames lap? Leap? | The Country Stairs

    Will flames lap? Leap?