And a shriek was heard And the flowers of blood Began to drip blood And all the flowers Began to drip blood And the enormous crowd Came to collect the blood And all things dripped blood And the sun grew … Read More
Remember, my soul, the thing we saw That soft summer morning: At the turn in the path, upon a bed of scattered stones, A carcass lying raw. Like a woman in lust with its legs in the air Burning and … Read More
I’m all about puppies during finals because I never feel like less of human than when I have written the phrase “sociopolitical framework” and wondered whether what I meant was actually “geopolitical,”
Last night I caught you sleepwalking again: you stumbled to the hallway and curled your toes against the hardwood, spun like the skipping track of a cross-eyed orbit. I had forgotten what you look like off-balance. Your nightmares only ring … Read More
Annie, dusting the earth in birdseed, cups her ear for the coos of loons that echo up from Bantam Lake—across the thistled yellow hill where deer would bow their heads, go rigid, then bolt into the curtain of trees.
I am to have this gold when you die. To buy ink for poems crumpled on the carpet purchased with your cancer. You’ll make nothing as a writer. But my materials are cheap. Each verse I write about you merely … Read More