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Poems

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  • What, Me?

    When we’re in a car together I worry we’ll die and the world will lose its role models.

  • Tchaikovsky’s Fifth, On Freud’s Birthday [May 5] & In Vienna

    The first movement of Tchaikovsky’s

  • AFTERNOON AT THE METROPOLITAN, NYC

    Against the mauve wall, a Flegel

  • Vernissage

    Survivors of a volcanic explosion, cross-

  • My Lovely Garonne

    Because every tenth poem or so the poet described

  • The Injured Future

    Far left cluster the listeners, their heads lifted toward the speaker.

  • The Invention of Everyday Life

    A few days later Pierre arrived.

  • 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.

  • On Sadness | On Beauty

    I noticed something strange and beautiful about the word “sad.”

  • Labyrinth (Lear)

    A poorly timed abdication. A madness

  • the primate hospital

    I have raptured the oars.

  • In which I am confronted by a superhero

    I’m hitting fast forward to skip the gruesome bits of an Icelandic mystery