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Poems

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  • January in West Texas

    Once, I preferred nights. How they arrived one tied to the next like silk scarves, knots of daylight between them. I

  • Father and Analysand

    Shy in houndstooth, white hair and a smoke

  • At sunset translated from Spanish by Paula J. Lambert

    the dragonfly perches on the river waiting for a breeze

  • January and The Marrow

    Greetings from the first darkness,

  • Inside the guts of fresh fish, just hauled up | Shall we praise the girls who will not come down | It’s about water that didn’t lose its shine

    Inside the guts of fresh fish, just hauled up

  • grief being a swatch of blue & grief being that song from childhood & grief being a pitched tent

    a rectangle in an unborn son’s room

  • January 28 | Basho

    Today it is snowing again and I’m thinking of Borges.

  • The Wars Between the Wars Between the Borders that Were Not There

    You had to know how bad the Nazis were

  • Green Girls

    Wriggling on the bottles:

  • Summer circa 1967-2xxx

    My mother & the other ladies

  • White Zinfandel

    Again last night I dreamed the dream called Waiter.

  • In Purgatory

    Not easy.