Poetry

Poetry |

“Little Speech” & “Spring Summer Fall Winter”

“Undesirable you may have become, wept over / by no one, your green age passed by. / Don’t you remember the first chill / in the fires wasting August, / our last great season?”

Poetry |

“Martial Arts” & “Coming Back”

“At the start of every lesson the teacher / asks, What’s your best defense // in a dark alley? Upstairs our son swings / his legs, kicking neatly like a clock // at the quarter hour …”

Poetry |

“Dad and the Eye Exam” & “Milk Run”

“My chin rests in this little sling / and I let you come back from the dead. // Go ahead, sit by the magazine rack / as the optometrist taps our history // into the record …”

Poetry |

“Growing Up in the Mouth of the Wolf”

“Firearms enforce the wolf’s freedom. A boy/must learn to be/a wolf. //The wolf swallowed me. The men/of my childhood hated. They ate/with their eyes.”

Poetry |

“Dream Song” & “Born Again”

“From our team leader with secrets / I felt the graze of her gaze on my legs, / I grew lean, played guitar and drew portraits, / inhaled the scent of roses …”

Poetry |

“King Street”

“The noise / from the Greek / restaurant downstairs // subsides, leans / into the shoulder / for the walk home, // a little quiet, / a little drunk …”

Poetry |

“Year of the Snake”

“My long-ago Braille teacher / suspected me of peeking at the little / bumps on the page. I was flattered / And also insulted.”

Poetry |

“Imagine That”

“I learned about Mr. Harrigan, tracked his slaveholding. / We found Mr. Colrain when my wife’s mother sent old papers / no one read at any more. By chance we discovered / their joint tenure in the South Carolina legislature.”

Poetry |

“The Generations”

“When my father spoke to my aunt from Guaynabo, / I cried when he said to me, his face pale and drawn, / ‘Your cousin tried wading through an undertow.'”

Poetry |

“This Summer the Girls” & “Relics of the Mountain West”

“This summer the girls are all wearing blue / fingernail polish, looking as if they’ve drowned / or suffocated, or been poisoned by carbon / monoxide. As if they’re trying on for size / death …”

Poetry |

“A Framed Photograph”

“The day after my father died, / his boss, Charlie, came to our house / carrying a box. // Early evening, / my mother and I welcomed him / into the foyer.”