Poetry

Poetry |

“Phantom State” & “About the Pen”

“My brother is bent / over a computer 204 miles away. / Rootlessness is not so much a betrayal  / as it is a logical extension, my father / shouts. Of what? I ask. I can’t hear his / answer.”

Poetry |

“Provenance,” “Fugue” & “Fin du Monde”

“Theirs, a brief effusion, brief as these words: / experience, memory, perception, exchanged / for chronic interconnectedness, surveillance, / former democratic rule turned demagoguery.”

Poetry |

“The Gulls (The Eagle)”

“There was a choice I had to make and I made it. And sometimes I think the // voice in my head tells me I didn’t make it. That everyone else made the choice, and I floated / instead like a gull over the surface of its water …”

Poetry |

“Remainders”

“When my mother died / twenty-seven years / of appointment books / sat in her closet, / each errand noted / and checked off once done …”

Poetry |

“The Nine Children of Mariana Gluza”

“what does it mean   if your family / erases you   as a child   was the grief   of your death / too much   to bear   or were you   replaceable”

Poetry |

“Go On, Then,” “Fire” & “Vanishing Points”

One of these days, Alice! / roared from the screen on weekend poker nights / while Connor or Cooney or Burke was riffling the cards. / In pajamas, we slid our faces through the staircase bars.”

Poetry |

“Notes on Recovery”

“I lowered her into her chair / and she kissed my hands again // and again, lips like paper / drinking the last of our story.”

 

Poetry |

“Little Mirror”

“… then a fish swimming close /  to the image of something familiar, //  but from another world, this molten / phenomenon, which might be wreckage // from a lighthouse keeper’s mantle …”

Poetry |

“How I Became a Bird” & “Cabbage Soup”

“My father kept a Rosary in his pocket. / He was known for giving away inexpensive / holy medals and pocket prayer beads. / At one point he handed out gold-colored / lapel pin doves.”

Poetry |

“The Theory of the Multiverse”

“I live uptown     I live / downtown     I live all around / say goodbye to the mythopoeic / no more receiving holy orders / just remember to pay attention”

Poetry |

“What’s The Past Like?”

“But / now I recall the sound a gray bird // made to wake me from a crazed dream. / Like a scratch awl with its fluted wooden // handle chipping bark off an oak tree.”

Poetry |

“Autobiography of Melancholy” & “Silence”

“All day I was drugged with sadness. / Asleep, my fists curled like thoughts unspoken. // I am a realist bothered by reality. / Someone who dreams with eyes wide open.”

Poetry |

“Eternal Summer”

“Split a penny in half and use it twice / he jokes, gesturing at $6.99 / neon laundry detergent jugs, dented. / I couldn’t afford these back then.