Poetry

Poetry |

“The Boys, Waiting (Petaled Gloaming)”

“He was a queer anarchist / with a mouth on him so when hassled / by a cop for riding his bike / on the sidewalk he jumped off, bike chain / clutched in his scabbed fists.”

Poetry |

“During elementary school, I was pulled out of class”

“A decade and a half later, / only my laptop kept time during jail visits. // Here in Arizona, in a house with no clocks, / only overpriced electronics / signal the hour.”

Poetry |

“A Moose Breathes Onto My Palm”

“In the painting, a rabbit / is riding a moose] / or perhaps a reindeer. I’ve never been good / at identifying large mammals …”

Poetry |

“Refuge”

“My mother painted a colorful jungle / on the upstairs balcony with a deer, bear, / lion, elephant, wolf, lamb and birds / looking at me as they flapped.”

Poetry |

“The Novel”

“Over the span of twenty pages / these quiet moments from the man’s past / are interspersed with his present / where a slow but steady trickle of information / allows us to piece together these facts …”

Poetry |

“Enthusiasts” & “Narrative”

“They understand a simple thing / is never simple and get / all electric about it, / like my beautiful friends / who ignite over words …”

Poetry |

“1986”

“That was the year my mom got a teaching job at my school. / Her classroom, a trailer on the tarmac.”

Poetry |

“Irreplaceable Plates,” “O Patriarca” & “Made Up”

“Behind many extant serious love poems / you’ll find a serious love poet // ejaculating into a ficus pot. // Whether you wanted him there or not. // Always straining to make the sea sound / sexual in a new way.”

 

Poetry |

“Tacoma Narrows”

“No word is safe when our leader lies, & small lies matter / as much as big ones — one whisper of deceit // swells in the retelling, then ripples outwards in a widening / wave.”

Poetry |

“The Old Spinet”

“I riffed on this / diminutive piano — / small soundboard / and short strings fine / for starters, until the baby / grand would surely / take its place …”

Poetry |

“Woman with a Trump Mask in the Medical Center Waiting Area”

“She walks with a limp to the reception window. / Overhead, the light fixture twitches and dims. I slump / down into my phone. A moment later, with a sigh / she lowers herself onto the seat across from me …”

Poetry |

“18 West Eleventh Street, March 5th, 1970”

“Dave and I awake on the morning / before in the guest room on the second floor that is / furnished with English antiques, which is strangely / the first thing I think of in my disbelief when I see / the headline …”