Poetry
e before i
I set out to find Glenn Gould’s gravesite. / Row 1088, Plot 1050. Nowhere near the rose garden. / / I wanted to see those notes. The Goldberg Variations. / Inscribed....
Girl, Walking
Ah you, bright you, / breaking day open like a dry loaf / and setting off through the billowing sky / that wafts across your mind / / like shantung...
Sad Steps
Stumbling back to bed after a pee / I’m startled by the stalker moon, peeping / Thomasina through the spare room window. / Intruder, interruptrix: she’s looking a bit / rough around...
(hospital vespers)
Doctors played your dosage like a card-trick, / scrabbled down the hallways yelling “Yahtzee!” / I brought books on Hopper, and the Arctic, / something called “The Politics of Lonely,” / a...
Winter Archive
Tonight, steel mesh of constellations and a die-cut moon. Flames in the northern sky / and sirens — another fire in an old hotel. Every hour on the hour you wake and listen /...
Spring Break
Spring break. Kids are on the loose in the mind and everywhere. / Down by the creek, they club the ice with thick branches, / pelt its surface with stones, crying “die,...
Calling from Beirut
There is no order and there is nothing we can hold onto that is called order. / Wires swoon from rooftop to pole, each house is captained by a pirate, and /...
The Triumph of Hugh Hefner
Hurtled his roadster straight through the great books / of his country, never once stopped for gas or swerved / to avoid a rabbit. Tore along the spines of Faulkner past /...
last ditch
and if i wasn’t moving, i was dead, dry fibres stretched down my throat / and all was green, tall, shuddering sawblade green manipulated / by a dilating scope. weather was suspended...