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Poems

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  • Confession Therapy and Electroconvulsive Therapy (ECT)

    One summer, as I was cleaning out the grooves in my palm, I was living in a monastery.

  • Across the Wide Missouri

    It’s toward the end of the season.

  • Mass on the Beach

    I’m trying not to wonder if the priest

  • PRESENTIMENTS

    Such as the sun might present—out of sight—

  • Posthumous Cabin

    And got away to it, and left the work to others

  • Carpe Diem

    You won't live

  • Indian River at Dusk

    The first and only time I caught a sheephead

  • from Border Crossings

    On dark nights when I have no words of my

  • LIMESTONE GHAZAL

    My windowsill’s lined with fossils, whorled limestone

  • Three Poems

    I dropped a sprig of laurel into your grave

  • Ultimatum

    If I forget one character a day

  • An Island

    Toward the end of the island