Poetry
Goldenrod
These days, I lean into darkness: ten times / over, I sing madrigals, sign cards. Sweet times / / find their vowels in birds’ wings, radial syntax / of carpus, metacarpus,...
Moose Factory – d-dechs tags
you traced yourself in vivid green and blue / after southern cousins, streets, brick / made alive with tags, / quiet illuminators of the / bleaker corners / trash bins, rusted /...
blason de la poule
her feet are two twig fingers grasping at grass / her legs support an ark that tips like a / theme park ride, frequently stuck / / her feathers are packed...
I Used to Be White
like a white sail / / luffing in the white wind /
Awake
1. awake is how we leave / our other selves / asleep / / 2. a ship cleaves sea / a wake...
Photographing Bushkill Creek
I’m sitting on the bank where you once stood / to photograph the creek the way you would / have on a day like this. You’d go knee-deep / to get a...
Erratics
The hills and stones are drunker than us. / Someone spilled a thousand rolls of green velvet / at a party of rocks. We walk over them / and through the glissading...
sleeping
you know they love you if they take your picture while you’re sleeping. / i take pictures because i feel like i understand things that way / if i feel i understand...
mandolin
turn me to play tire tracked steel wound funiculars filamented clandestine caravans bordering optic filters and a mandolin so held, so structuralized and redistributed as Saracen crescents as buttery Actias Luna (saturnidae)...