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Poems

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  • Hurricane: Hera | Squall: Echo

    You never hear of Ixion, tied to a revolving wheel,

  • Sprang

    Before tracking pods of killer whales in and out

  • Albatross

    Driving toward

  • BORN ON

    The twelfth of July, like Neruda, wouldn’t

  • Guardian Angels Witness More Lives Than Yours

    You are eight years old.

  • A Brief Portfolio

    I was in sixth grade when I twirled Stephanie Comb’s

  • Quotidian and Carry

    Steak dinners are the worst /you prefer the fatty cut / those white-ribboned slabs from Save-A-Lot

  • And

    And

  • Winter Morning and Ceci n’est pas un pot

    I can easily imagine someone always doubting before he opened his front door whether

  • 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

  • The Lord Is a Man of War | Far Desert Region | The Day-Shift Sleeps, | [Does the war want

    The Lord is a man of war

  • The NewMath and Nor Easter

    There may still be time to find the cosine of x. Under an à la mode