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Poems

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  • The Freud Museum

    It’s 1938. Here’s moss on red brick

  • The Fourth Walk

    Among the ruined are the ruins. Rules even skies can wreck in shreds,

  • The Fortieth Day | Pussy Riot/Want/Don’t/Want

    Now she called forth nights of a different kind of brilliance when the moon wrapped every thing with light—

  • THE FLOWER AT THE END OF THE WORLD

    It was a 1954 Ford pickup truck that stopped

  • The First Communion and Forty-Two

    I shall sit here, on this bench,

  • The Excellent Trip

    You thought you’d need a month. You thought you’d need

  • The Etymology of “Alaasa” [علاسة]

    In 2006, the word

  • The Epileptic

    Conversations with him are like waiting for thunder.

  • The End

    Whatever is coming is the end, but not really.

  • The Encounter

    Drizzle and formless

  • The Elms | For the Collection

    Workers were cut; had to be done for . . . corporations

  • The Easy Way to Stop Drinking

    We are as flies in a pitcher plant,