Poetry

Poetry |

“Sarah & Lila”

“In the cemetery, look for the husband’s name. / I finally find you, Lila — stone letters / freshly carved, marble bench facing a pond for / serenity.”

Poetry |

“Carried Onward to Our End”

“But there is no resolution to unknowing, pain; / There is the pale smoke that drifts above the charnel ground. / Shadow men and women bring corpses of their forbears, / bring firewood. Light flames. Tend fires …”

Poetry |

“Fitting the Profile” & “Traffic Report”

“The peculiar smell in the back / of a cop car is not old cum or stale perfume. / It’s Fear 101 or Advanced Fear, or both. / How many hands against how many / cars, how many cuffed, how many heads / shoved down into that seat?”

Poetry |

“Concrete Pastoral”

“… a Target parking lot’s grey order punctured / by the aquiline nose of an unhoused man / late in his seventies, belted neat in khakis, pulling // a carry-on …”

Poetry |

“Calle del Desengaño, Antigua, Guatamala”

“Someone is burning chaff, / someone is burning garbage, someone / is singing to a radio ranchera. / Animals are crying in a far corral // as they do before an earthquake.”

Poetry |

“River Bride”

“There’s a continent inside our bodies / built from the attar of Eve, a small boat in the river / of our veins & a burned-out church at the fourth fold // in the wrist.”

Poetry |

“Ode on a Field in Norwich, Vermont”

“We have staked out this grass to save us / from certain death. We crush / our crime-scene-outline backs against it weightfully.”

Poetry |

“Purchase” & “Dragonfly”

“The panties arrived by mail, //  flat and overlapping on blue / cardboard like four open-winged birds // on a rectangle of sky.”

 

Poetry |

“Christmas Songs”

“The swimming pool lies under its moldy, canvas top. / Faded poinsettia leaves, brown over white, / struggle into a February that sees / roses bend their necked stems in silent death throes.”

Poetry |

“The God of Love Never Says It’s Complicated

Is that where your boyfriend’s body bounced // from the car into a patch of bushes? / You say, I wasn’t even drunk, but blinded, // stated mildly, matter of fact and of record.”

Poetry |

“At Gramma’s House” & “On East 38th Street”

“Peek outside the door to the backyard, / there’s a quad of dead shrubs, cat skeletons, / and nopal cacti a father trims for nopales. / Dead children become sediment, a red moon / hovers over a river.”