POETRY

“Poetry is language at its most distilled and most powerful.”
—Rita Dove
The Man

the man is stayed bent over the canvas
of my sofa. the man is me the man is him
self and I bring down the whip…

robertson quay

how does an afternoon turn
on its axis?

Observer of the Patient

Her brown eyes,
how a fig
considers itself.

Hollywood Hills
the remarkable thing

I am still waiting for the lion

Snow Falls from Branches

Should have found a job by now; should have slept in the night;
should have boiled old coffee before noon.

Making Israeli Salad

Now that the Israeli has left, it falls
on me to make the salad.

Several someones

a folksome, gruesome opera
of gauze and malcontent.

Despairathon

You’ve spent a lifetime training
for this.

Fallout Shelter

I imagined a cascade of slow death for all / that mattered…

Lobster

I suffer visions and many indignities
while looking for the Lobster

Dis Place Ment

People have always coped with flooding, and they learned to cope with death.

Letter To a Young Poet

Do not say anything anybody else has said ever. Things are not “bleached by sun.”

close up of sun
Mercury in Retrograde

You said it was okay to blame
what goes wrong on the planet

Landscape with Ash

You are strange, my mother said, dwelling on the past.

Sprung (April)

I like to think I’m also sprung,
released from the furnace knocks,
done with the heavy meat stews
and salty soups.

REVENGE SCENE

Okay, picture this: We’re in an elevator. The elevator shuts down. It doesn’t matter where we’re going, only that we’re alone.

On the Night Row-Houses Across the Street Catch Fire

You let the yellow glow
from eye sockets. The building up the street
is burning faster and faster.

things they won’t tell you but should:

love is a soggy tea stain on a grocery receipt

There is an alternative universe

Ghosts for hire, whispers in her mouth,
cysts to feel, the symmetry of a gift.

oh Manifesto

The collective
failure
of ethical standards