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Poems

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  • Like Warm Ice Cubes

    A father is like warm

  • Heard in Caravaggio

    The real is offered, unashamed:

  • Practicing Quiet & The Last Sleep Artist

    What do you mean, you ate Melvin?

  • Soul Mate

    When I was a girl, I had a dirty soul.

  • the ugly purple corpse I lug behind me | you haven’t changed a bit

    the ugly purple corpse I lug behind me

  • A Woman in Damascus That Year | While She’s Asleep In Baghdad

    Her soul’s in my hand and she knows I’m there

  • FOR MATS AND LAILA

    The Date Line lies motionless between Samoa and Tonga, but the Midnight Line glides across the ocean and islands and rooftops of huts.

  • The Left Hand

    clay votive offering

  • In the Vestibule

    The in-between is queasy

  • What If a House Could Draw its Own Blueprints? and The Decision

    The house grows wild, floats

  • Cosmology

    Someone has spilled the moon

  • Afterimage

    Do you remember those Cornell shadow boxes we saw at some