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Poems

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  • THE RAIN SO COLD

    The air of the day abhors us

  • Agnus Dei, Winslow Wants a Gun, Omega Street

    The shearer’s come horse-back from Solo –

  • Firing My Father’s Mossberg

    At the shooting range,

  • Human Condition

    The human condition isn’t some grinning

  • Toys

    Your toys, my child, hold them dear,

  • Bad Line in a Bad Paragraph

    Where "grab a bite"

  • Your Beautiful Mouth

    The sun is the sum of one particular age, the moon

  • July Saturday Night 

    Now I’m going to walk downtown to Cape Tip Sportswear

  • Three Poems

    Typos   Word instead of wood but, sodden, it smoked when it burned. I wrote god for good who was, once–– in my childhood years, crowned with the nimbus of that capital G–– but now tends to be a placeholder for nightmare, tears. Seeking solace in the pastoral, but grove came out as grave and the lymph nodes, irradiated, naked

  • Three poems by Nadia Mifsud translated from Maltese by Miriam Calleja

    abracadabresque this silence spreading sorrow

  • Leaving the Big City

    So afterward I sat by the bosphorus blue water and many dazzling

  • Storm Song, Monarch, Sultry Night and Galveston, 1900

    Last night heat