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Poems

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  • 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,

  • Two Poems

    My nearsighted eye is for splinters, the threading of needles,

  • Reading Julio Cortázar after turning 70

    Years ago, there was your story about a man named John Howell.

  • New Math

    Out of the place I knew,

  • Three Poems

    Our lives are so brief, she says,

  • The Neighbor’s War and Walking Backwards

    Through my kitchen window I can watch

  • Milkweed Lullaby and Radio Lullaby

    The days were endless,

  • WOMAN CAVE | MODERN ORIGAMI

    Even at my most primitive

  • Dollymix translated from Swedish by Kristina Andersson Bicher

    You – in a violet dress. A radiant, billowing circle in a wreath of sun.

  • from Devil Mutant Child

    Exactly the hair I wanted,

  • Cigar Box Banjo

    Blind Willie Johnson could coax

  • THE OMEN IN WOMEN

    It is only playing Words With Friend