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Poems

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  • Alone at 77 & I Arrive at the Scene

    Unhungry, he cracks a single egg.

  • The Willows in Winter in the Boston Public Garden

    In the sun’s white

  • Lightning Streak of White

    Black streets, black sky with orchid clouds.

  • Call & Response

    In this last

  • Tongue of Language | Nightmare

    Oh tongue of language, moving with your comb

  • She Leans

    A house: scoured and scarred by wind, its unpainted

  • Wooden Boards

    My father carefully rolls his pant leg up, places his leg between two wide boards. He tells my mother to jump hard on

  • NIGHT COMMUNION

    We met at the revolving hotel door. You’d shaved

  • Riding the Metro-North New Haven Line and Black Mountain Music

    The question is what kind of sausage are they—

  • Song of The Hoarse Bullhorn Holder

    I eviscerated Vince, my prized pig, to calm the churning sea

  • small town saxaphone

    men in rain, thin and fine halos of hair,

  • Imaginary Conversation | In the Orchard

    You tell me to live each day