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Poems

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  • NOTES ON SILENCE

    The racket of birdsong wakes me at 4am, before first light.

  • Duet

    Their quest--what does the human body mean?--

  • TENEBRAE

    As grief begins taking up resi

  • Tool & Shade

    A brush of two minds still

  • Between the Bed and the Window

    First, the light, which is always

  • The Child and I

    I wanted to go fishing one day,

  • Value and Reverie

    The dog dreams on the rug

  • Pain & Ophelia and the Nine-and-Fifty Swans

    Where to stand

  • LIMESTONE GHAZAL

    My windowsill’s lined with fossils, whorled limestone

  • Somebody’s Got My Hair | Cuffed

    Somebody’s got my hair, I said to my lover, who stood in front of the mirror in a long white t-shirt brushing out her

  • Seven Minutes with Mary Halvorson: Poetry and Jazz, Hand in Hand

    Artlessly falling through overstretched arms delivers the night underground, a hole

  • The Dirty Orgasm, The Eleanor Ross Taylor Poems & Aren’t You Ashamed

    I know what you think. I’m the orgasm poet. I have nothing else to write about. I should stop.