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Poems

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  • Dryer

    This seemingly permanent revolution,

  • Maria Dolores, Mother of Sorrows Quilts

    She sewed them from the old

  • I hitchhiked through Harrisburg once: night and some light dislocating, | A self beyond herself singed by the stars, fundamentally | Not the violent deaths that follow you around [if you were black] but the slow

    I hitchhiked through Harrisburg once: night and some light dislocating,

  • Yes

    Yes, all things of water and our days rounded with light, yes,

  • The Shell

    When I picked it up from the sand

  • On Breathing and Not Breathing—The Sequence

    Once, a man stopped breathing

  • Five Poems

    His Dublin sister, two sons,

  • Writing Under the Influence of Me

    It means I drop things, and I keep turning

  • Fifteen Essays on Boats, Boats, Language, and the SS

    The Palermo Airport is not large.

  • Riding the Metro-North New Haven Line and Black Mountain Music

    The question is what kind of sausage are they—

  • Five Per Page and Title covered in flies

    Yard sticks and shards are kept in a jar shaped as a cowboy boot.

  • Pip

    Withered pip of a boy, now grey and halt