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Poems

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  • CALLING BACK | CHARITY

    My daughter sings in snow falling through the scent of red oak or ash, some of the flakes large enough to contain passages from Emily Dickinson’s letters. 

  • Trespass and Dante Confidential

    That is not your poem to write, she says.

  • The List

    Branches shiver as if a wand

  • Free Descent

    It seemed I had always been kicking

  • Mishap

    At the soiree, a hot ticket zooms off with a hot potato into the toy

  • No use

    On October 21, 1962, Sylvia Plath wrote one poem that became two.

  • Threnody and Sylvia Plath

    The train coach, Jean—empty except for you,

  • Muxica

    The border fence,

  • Three Poems

    Somewhere in Brooklyn, a nurse walks out of the hospital where I was born,

  • Photographer’s Song & Nothing Song

    Standing in the shade,

  • Sign Language I & II translated by Kareem Abu-Zeid

    It’s not that I

  • Two Poems

    My old man praised himself for not being