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Poems

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  • Getting Old, Thinking of Keats

    Even though I’m old now

  • A Place

    As a foreigner, I wasted a lot of energy

  • Anatomy of Late

    It looks like a fox, when it’s sleeping. No, its body

  • Repair

    In this, our chapter on enamelware

  • THE LEAVES HAVE NO PITY

    gathering under the porch like abandoned promises,

  • My Obituary

    Will it merit a full column in The Post or The Times

  • Vermeer in Greenlandic Norse

    We were stopped in the gallery’s cool

  • Unbeckoning Glass and Time Faking Surprises

    This color is exhaled smoke from a bummed cigarette, a stray cloud for the sky.

  • A Canticle Rehearsal in The Temple and The Waters Do Not Return, Even to Meribà

    Oh, I am tired of my land,

  • AFTER THUNDERSTORMS IN OKLAHOMA

    The sky becomes sickly,

  • Poem

    I’m going to pretend I’m a painter and just

  • Indelible

    Having worn myself out naming Bewick's wren,