—or not. I told you it is alright to open the window, since we are on a higher floor, and...
And I do not mean that my mother spoke in thee and thou or that my father was an exegete; my...
There’s orange oil on my thumb, viscous beefy consumé, I’m battling the wind for my paper napkins and my paper bag and anything that isn’t...
after Marilyn Hacker Light glints off of the tower across the screeching street, strangers, the psalm of a shameless city. I’ve scrubbed raw...
In the roaring undergirding By the fine old wattled keep I chanted fast my brains to muck And sunk forms...
You sat low with me thenagainst the foot of the bedin the week after my father died. I put my...
A single red sclera scans linoleum. It encloses the white irises that I bathe the milling men and women and...
This one drive,my father put the radio on,to replace the other sounds,and there was news from Norway,speaking of the fish...
When I get my haircut I like to imagine The barber is you. I don’t notice the Eminem playing or...
Inspired by “A Prayer for My Daughter” by W.B. Yeats As I lie in these tousled sheetsstaring at the beat...