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