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Poems

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  • Lazarus

    She sucks the cigarette

  • Lava Lakes and Petrified Forests in the Afterlife

    I watched a roomful of faces exert effort to remain unrevealed

  • Late Portrait

    Dried flowers everywhere. Greeting cards. China plates hung on walls, showing a

  • Late in October

    Late in October, I watch

  • Late Elegy for Charlotte

    You were about to sail the Seine.

  • LATE

    The last time my father returned from work

  • Last Words

    If only for those you leave behind,

  • Last Poem

    Reader, today

  • Last Day in Coldwater

    Our phone died due to lack

  • Last Christmas

    Your best friend had brain cancer

  • Lapse

    I am not deceived, I do not think it is still summer. I

  • Language Is a Form of Walking, Even at Age of 87 and Three, in One Story

    At 30, she learns to rewrite herself in a phonetic language,