POETRY

“Poetry is language at its most distilled and most powerful.”
—Rita Dove
[Zoetrope with Particulates in it and a Newborn]

and then her eyes fully opened — blazed through with strands of mud

You can’t make them love you, no matter how artfully you betray yourself

Try not to see your own predicament in every fucking thing.

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…

My Multiverses

It is the 70s. 1970s? 2570s? Who knows?
Audre and I have a penthouse in New York.

Making Israeli Salad

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

Back Suplex

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

necromancer woman, witch woman

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

Dis Place Ment

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

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.

Welcome To The House of Static

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

Observer of the Patient

Her brown eyes,
how a fig
considers itself.

oh Manifesto

The collective
failure
of ethical standards

The Kotel in Jerusalem is Filled with Cracks

We found in his suitcase T-shirts, his siddur, gifts he bought for his grandchildren…

A Way of Seeing

Just starlight and some small scribbling across vinyl.

Good Driver

Lights on the dashboard spell out
“You still can’t kiss me”

Several someones

a folksome, gruesome opera
of gauze and malcontent.

I Garden at the Edge of Autumn

There is so little left of the tomato plants.

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.