Poetry |
“The Shape of Moving”
“It’s where the wind ends, his note says, / and no one finds him for so long he’s been eaten // by insects and vultures — all but his bones and cap …”
Poetry |
from Leaving: A Poem from the Time of the Virus
“… nobody // themselves anymore, not a single apparition, / withdrawal after defeat // but no destination.”
Poetry |
“Poem About Remembrance,” “Poem About Literary Scholars,” “Poem About Journalists,” “Poem About God,” “Poem About Appearances,” “Poem About Death”
“Memory requires kindness and clean air. Hence, it’s easier to care for memories in Bermuda than in Eastern Europe. It’s only with seagrass in the mouth that one remembers elegantly.”
Poetry |
“You Learned an Anne Sexton Poem”
“You learned an Anne Sexton poem, / to share at my Quaker wedding. We worried over one word, / a tiny one that made the stanza sing. But would my mother want to hear it, / from the pew?”
Poetry |
“Variations”
“Jenny showed us patterns on her viola / through the spastic tinkle of Zoom. // I tried reading some of my Goldbergs poems, / mostly inaudible.”
Poetry |
“My Mother’s Pocketbook”
“… a linen hanky reeking / of Jungle Gardenia, / a rain bonnet folded neatly // in its plastic sleeve …”
Poetry |
“After a student tells me her allergies are due to botanical sexism, I look it up” & “Summertime”
“Growers bred new cultivars / avoiding troublesome lady / or hermaphrodite trees; // they bred boys, boys, boys all day …”
Poetry |
“Unwritten” and “Prayer at the Masked Ball”
“I’ve worn this face // since birth, / and now I want // it off. / I need a god // to remake me …”
Poetry |
“Figuration” and “Pandemonic”
“The silence of lawn chairs in falling snow, / half-built houses draped in tarps, / satellites that blink across night sky, / their lights a pulse that leaves no trace.”
Poetry |
from “Mandarin Pandemic Diary”
“Now the neighbor’s black cat is already hunting. / Birds, be careful. I’ll be careful. / I remember. I forget. / The black cat, like rain, disappears.”
Poetry |
“Last November” and “Tracks”
“The heat broke in the night and we woke to our breath / swept the ash from the hearth lit holiday mailers / with a long lighter so logs would catch …”
Poetry |
“Ololyga” and “ordure”
“Soon it was ash falling on everything falling / on the invisible frequencies of an Internet of pain // the women had strung across and through themselves.”
Poetry |
“Ghazal w/Tequila,” “Ghazal w/Road,” “Ghazal w/Salt,” “Ghazal w/Bowl,” “Ghazal w/Sleep” & “Ghazal w/Open”
“I want to be the flesh around the stone, the thing consumed / at the kitchen sink, the juice down your arm, the peel, a ribbon of road. // To be the bus come to rest in its bay; to be the bay: that oily harbor.”
Poetry |
Three Poems by Sappho
“And if now she runs away, soon she will chase; / if she refuses gifts, soon she’ll bring her own; / if she won’t love you, soon she will be longing …”