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Poems

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  • Alone at 77 & I Arrive at the Scene

    Unhungry, he cracks a single egg.

  • Caravaggio’s Supper

    They were tired and hungry when they found themselves just outside the village now known as

  • Ode to Disarmament

    I am fairly sure that the leafhopper

  • The gap between

    the platform &

  • In Praise of Transformations

    Not always dramatic.  Often soundless.

  • The Mystery

    The mystery of our time

  • from Fourteen Fourteenliners

    Why can say passion fruit for instance always begin again

  • Soup Teachers

    we called them, the women who stood behind

  • The Host of Turns

    We were gathered in this kind of circus-tent,

  • It’s 3 A.M., Winter, and Nine Miles from Truckee

    and nobody better than I to tell you about

  • Notnames at the Detroit Institute of the Arts and Hell Fuckin’ Yeah:  Smackdown vs. Raw

    At the Detroit Institute of the Arts the Caravaggio’s no

  • Petrarch’s Poem 269, from Rerum vulgarium fragmenta, translated from Italian by Lee Harlin Bahan

    The high column and the green laurel