Poetry

Poetry |

“The Garden State”

“I keep an artificial hydrangea in my vase, / its pale blue shot-through with khaki.  //  In Jersey, we called them snowballs, / so much fuller than roses, so weirdly azure …”

Poetry |

“Half the Hour” & “Measure”

“For a poem ‘Close Is Far and Figured’ I plotted stanzas and rhythm / simply to fulfill the title // “Close is far” back then was a sad young man on the crowded F train / his thumb slowly swiping texted photos of his mother …”

Poetry |

“Broken Coffee Break”

“I stroll up to my favorite out-of-town coffee shop/ and find it closed for good. Through the black glass,/ a naked counter, stools scattered, space thrown open / to conjecture and rats, stillness, indifference.”

Poetry |

“The ‘Gfit'”

“… it was early in the pandemic,/ even though I thought maybe it was getting / towards the end of the pandemic, / and I didn’t have cancer, or if I did, / I didn’t know I had cancer …”

Poetry |

“My Mother” and “Malcah”

“I strained to serve as her first son. // She sang songs from WWI with her father that she sang / again, but who would listen? Not I, clearly her worst son.”

Poetry |

“The White Hare”

“You saw it first in a dream: / the white hare bounding over / tufted knolls, the sun arcing / toward sable twilight”

Poetry |

“Thank Plankton”

“Well, they are gone, and here it comes, / the August sun, with the momentum of a rolling boil, / to blanch the greens and blues from leaves of grass / and trees and lighten boughs / by grafting absence where sap has stopped.”

Poetry |

“Negentropy”

“Is light / more like the waves sloshing ashore, or // the shore itself, all seven quintillion grains, / give or take?”

Poetry |

“A Few Wars”

“They’re reaching out to us with their guns. / They must want to make a difference // to someone — it’s us they hail now …”

Poetry |

“What’s Your Favorite Color”

“— I asked, icebreaker, and someone said “orange, now,” / and I agreed, somewhat, having come around to it also. / My favorite rose is orange.”

Poetry |

“Anterior Cartography”

“Certain wavelengths appear / not as beatific summation / but as feral anterior cartography where terror attempts to invade / our interior translucency”

Poetry |

“Sabbatical,” “Genealogy” & “Allegory”

“I knew I’d go missing if I lugged my life / around the corsos of Mezzegra / but I got lucky, stumbling on a celebration: / the anniversary of Mussolini’s hanging.”

Poetry |

“Nourish,” “Old Lady Smell” & “January 6, 2022”

“My mother made me promise / to tell her if she ever started to smell / like an old lady. My fastidious mother — / who dusted every Saturday / who never left a dish in the sink overnight …”