POETRY

“Poetry is language at its most distilled and most powerful.”
—Rita Dove
close up of sun
Mercury in Retrograde

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

painting of apple and grapes
Feast Of

anger, like you can sink teeth into, candy apple

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.

Mom, in Her Dementia, Steals Oranges

and apples, mackintosh mostly, but any kind left in The Pub
at the Assisted Living Place

i do not want to wait until it’s too late

the strands of your hair on the bathroom tiles aren’t sketching defeat. that’s you spitting disease in the face with another day you’ve woken up to.

woman at bar
After She Told Me You Pushed Her Down the Stairs

Empty vessels
make the most sound, I think,
as you rip the fairy lights off the handrail.

Fallout Shelter

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

Sadness is a Sin

If my life was the size of my arm, I would stretch it out for you.

The State School 1984 His Given Name Was Wilbur  We Called Him Magpie

Mostly he ate what was put on his plate
snuck coffee grounds or dirt for a snack
Once a zipper Unzipped

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…

Observer of the Patient

Her brown eyes,
how a fig
considers itself.

Welcome To The House of Static

here is the sky in stop motion, flickering,
a still shot in monochrome

necromancer woman, witch woman

In my universe, my arm carries a heart and flowers,
my back a misguided quote

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.

First

Long after midnight, we’re talking about our first time

Back Suplex

Gravel-scatted hell &
we were blessed to be able
to hold on for even a heartbeat

oh Manifesto

The collective
failure
of ethical standards

Ode To the Dove Pt. VI (Avrom Sutzkever)

Yes I am guilty, I’m guilty. A sin was desirable then.
Bring the dancer back to the stalks.