Writing

Poetry |

“Redwood”

“… and in ten million or so years / I might reach a tablet / inscribed with the poems of Enheduana; / and in another stretch / a bark-cliff-edge leading inside the mind / of Dante.”

Essay |

“My Mother’s Fingers”

“As I learn about her incarceration during World War II, I better understand the anger that she expressed when pain and dysfunction prevented her from sewing and gardening.”

Poetry |

“Mother As Bird” & “Red Tricycle”

“Reflections of clouds and trees / shone on its silver handlebars but only for a moment / before they’d slide away …”

Poetry |

“The Cryptid” & “The Loons”

“Drinks blood thinking it wine, / drinks wine thinking it dreams. / Its eyes are tattooed globes. / The cryptid sees through a thousand eyes hidden by fur.”

Lyric Prose |

“Box of Life”

“I slid the spoon in and took my first mouthful — and I froze. I was no longer in our kitchen but standing in the sunny piano room of my mother’s small shingled house on Cape Cod.”

Literature in Translation |

“Speech Therapy,” “Two Stars” & “Jay”

“As a child, he stuttered / terribly, hid behind others, / spoke indistinctly. // They sent him as expected / first to a speech therapist, / then to a drama club.

Poetry |

“Her Turquoise Eye Shadow” & “Poem”

“Nothing was open at the airport / all fifteen or so people / early to their flights / just kinda looked through / the slats to the combination / gift shop Dunkin Donuts.”

Poetry |

The Poets of Martha’s Vineyard, part II

“There is warmth in the flash / of his smile. I am Syrian, he tells me. It is all one country, Lebanon, Syria, / Jordan except for those damned Turks, / it would still be one country.”

Poetry |

“Everything Else Can Wait”

“No perfect couple / right off the cake. / No swollen uncontested // years, wings bent / and tattered by the cat.”

Poetry |

“Prognosis” & “Yearbook”

“It doesn’t seem fair that we only get one / for what are probably some / of the worst / years of our lives.”

 

Poetry |

“Of Cypresses”

“Jagged stone walls look as if ravaged by storms, / though the cypresses remain upright. // I must begin again to say what I see / and not use the rotted names.”

Literature in Translation |

“blazing cities,” “page blank” & “moment of silence”

“while night and day / cities flicker on under the stars / while things go swimmingly in Amsterdam / I doubt Ghouta / could present you a single dewy lawn / or Gaza …”