Poetry

Poetry |

“Empty Bus”

‘Some day, an auto worker / promised a young poet // in long-ago Detroit, Some day / the world is ours. Maybe Levine  / guessed the dream’s cost …”

Poetry |

“My Body as Hot Metal, My Body as Ornithology”

“When the boy closes his eyes, / does he remember the light / barbs of my fingertips? Does he / see my elbows as the arches // of the South 10th Street Bridge / cradling thousands of crows?”

Poetry |

“The Chinese Have Landed”

“Across the room, even facing the TV, / the son has dropped his head. Let him sleep. / The glittering efficient inner rooms  / await us. The masked proficiency / of everything near the end …”

Poetry |

“What’s An Angel Like?”

“But then I remember the one / that struck the glass, then fell / dead on the roof outside our window, / 25 stories above the river …”

Poetry |

“Cow Magnet”

“That that would happen / In the dark of an actual / Body was impossible / To believe but / We believed it …”

Poetry |

“Hip Check” and “Convent”

“When one lights on my wrist softly / my mind fails — an easy rush of wild trust / that cold will protect me, simply alter // my chemistry …”

Poetry |

“Hatboxes”

“Every / carpetbag and portmanteau that’s ever / been bumped along a corduroy road is broken / and our jeunesse is gone …”

Poetry |

“Lumiere Premieres”

“The two together keep time — / suddenly ah there’s steam / and a puff of smoke. / Quick break for a drink.”

 

Poetry |

“Like A Breathing Tadpole!”

“… how she jumped with strong legs from ragged wet outcropping to cool reeded corner, when my brothers and sisters and I crowded around the opening of a hot spring, our tails retracting …”