Poetry
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...
Potentially Inaccurate
Alike the stars that far do shine, / are shone to us with days still ravelled. / / We are not seen by our light, / but only that which travelled....
Single Pansy among Stones
Yellowest ear. Stepped on rather than around, and no sisters. Holy granite. Saladable? Perish that fancy. / / Trying so hard to be the sun it hurts. /
Translating Paul Celan
Nothing is as it seems, but buds on the trellis are the colour / of wine. Crocus bowls brim with fresh snow / / Not even the jay’s scream of I...
Marine Biology
You asked me if I knew how kite fish / kiss, and I said I didn’t / and you leaned forward, / slid your lips quickly over mine, / and then pulled...
Post-Surgery
My right arm casted, this poem has little choice / but to wend, flesh-bare and wan through Percocet / dreams where bones severed, coalesce. Like Neolithic / ground offering up the remains...
The Tribble
I approach the panel. Your blazer makes / my eyes wend. Are you there, Catullus? / I need to borrow the spindles of fate. / / You lift the lid. The...