POETRY

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

you quit wearing pants
loaf around your yard
in hole-nipped panties

Electric Eels, Finishing School, Teeth

Millions of Americans have been affected by identity theft. It’s probably the greenhouse gases.

All In

I don’t
know why
I’m in the garden
kneeling on dirt

Aging Punks

Every so often, they add a tattoo
in honor of some long-forgotten love.

robertson quay

how does an afternoon turn
on its axis?

The River

I myself should never have been born

An Interview with Dylan Krieger

Dylan Krieger’s poetry is unflinching, grotesque, and beautiful. Her work tackles trauma, wrestles authority, and is a decadent sonic feast.

Clueless & Briefly Gorgeous

I buy too much, for someone of my stature.
could pawn a skinny metaphor to purchase a plump skin.
its reputed in our lineage— to daydream a life that shreds our pockets.

A Way of Seeing

Just starlight and some small scribbling across vinyl.

Unerased | Steep Steps

My grandmother asked, “Does it feel like being widowed?”

Observer of the Patient

Her brown eyes,
how a fig
considers itself.

The Kotel in Jerusalem is Filled with Cracks

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

beach
On Undressing a Color / On Undressing a Girl

I imagine that undressing a color, though, would be so much like peeling a memory away from the grey and the white matter of your brain.

if detritus is all i’m made up of

my love is a glass shard, a knife made of madness and moonlight,
and there are already way too many fragments in this house

Me and Other Bodily Accessories

I am not a guide
for every traveler
of loss.

[Zoetrope with Particulates in it and a Newborn]

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

Mom, in Her Dementia, Steals Oranges

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