DepotI have no language but what I learned from shy-bred womenwhose whispers seem all at oncerooted in myselfand in a tongue so alien that I can’t decipher their warnings.I have no heritage beyond what I carry in my left hand. All of my promise is shackled to the platform railing.The train carries my mothers away, trailing …
Category Archives: Poetry
smoke season
smoke seasonsmoke covers us in summer now.no one can breathe properly.we don’t panic, exactly,but there is agrowing foreboding.by Augustthe smell is in our houses.it’s in the sheets at nightin our towels in the morning. we begin to taste it in our food:smoked oatmeal,grilled milk. but the sunsets are brilliant,even other-worldly. they reflect all the colors …
Iowa in Three Acts
Iowa in Three Acts (July 4, 1996)I.Last week Tommy was down to the hardware storewearing his mother’s flowered, (floured?)dress and carrying a taxidermied goat that he saidtold himthat Christ wasn’t coming back. They sent the patrol car down to deal with the disruption andChief Johnsontried to make him see sensebut you know Tommy. His Momma’s …
Egress
EgressHow did we come to share this meal?When did you arrive?I wish there was no echo in here.I wish you echoed less in my memory.We’ve made no progress.There is only one door, so we’ll have to use it if we want to exit.If we want to enter instead, we’ll have to find another window. Published …
Materiel for Poets
Materiel for PoetsI want to…crack open your earlobesyour earholesyour eye holesto see you with my fingertipsto feel your breathing (berating?) pulseunder the heel of my handthe derive the sum of ourselves yes to be one two or even threeparts of the universal disharmony. to bring us into the same patch of chaos.I want to scrawl …