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Poems

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  • JIGSAW

    Where in the world does it fit

  • Jerry Garcia in a Somerville Parking Lot

    Past midnight, a man in his late 60s, tall, with long

  • Jerez translated from Spanish by Susan Ayres

    Perhaps his hand was not so cold

  • January in West Texas

    Once, I preferred nights. How they arrived one tied to the next like silk scarves, knots of daylight between them. I

  • January and The Marrow

    Greetings from the first darkness,

  • January 28 | Basho

    Today it is snowing again and I’m thinking of Borges.

  • JANUARY

    This longing for him the choke in my throat again —

  • IX. Ophelia’s Garden | III. Tears

    After the turtle shook the world from its shell,

  • It’s Not Your Fault

    The brass lamp in your window,

  • IT’S 4PM IN THE E.R. AND I AM REARRANGED WITH A SMALL SADNESS

    I don't know what made me think

  • It’s the stage of grief where [I become a transparent eyeball]

    I become a transparent eyeball. I am nothing. I see all.

  • It’s Not Just Trains

    The ticket office was closing