The faces changing in the rooms’ changing light were just the beginning of stories, unwritten, untold, hardly imagined, whose flickering hid promises of the expected, of loves, of works to come, deeper in the plot, and the edge of thinking pressed against the heart like an argument, its rupture, loss of blood, the near-death scene,…
The mask tires of itself. The beautiful dream blown again. The world won’t shake its own hand. Air fills with bone- powder, hair-lint, blood-flecks or the body’s demolished light, shattered mid-thought, mid-stance, mid- breath, mid-word, mid-kiss. Can thinking wend a way back to where the body feels? To where it quivers, retracts, roots? Mind discontinues…
She had lived in the best cities of the United States and Europe, in the best times, but at age fifty-eight, she’d ended up near a small college town in western New York State that was so rural there were more coyotes than people. And so poor that between the two, the coyotes were the…
I’ve set my mind on You who don’t set your mind on earthly things what have you become now You’re here and I’ve a mind to You who set like an angel cake strawberries that I’m sure for that I hope for when You set your mind on you’re sure sweet what I’ve become now…
Will I always love you for throwing that skate out of Alan’s boat? Last summer, out lobstering in his Black Fin off Gay Head, only four bloody bluefish left for bait and five more traps to fill, we begged for its life. Did I know then I would leave you after fourteen years? Playfully patriarchal,…
my little bird don’t worry bout money she don’t worry little bird for worry don’t add up but a bunch of empty seeds no your single moment is now You long lovely thing your every moment is long and today and also yesterday when meek and lowly the whole world belonged to you You longing…
Born with everything but breath He slid into the world a month too soon. The trees traced with snow, the farm white-roofed, Even the tractor buried useless. The far mountains gullied white, Lost under an avalanche of cloud. And the calf nothing more than a flow of soft water, Eyes thin against…
Boats in the front yard! Blue tarps enduring the stare of the winter sun hollow as clouds that have been emptied everywhere. Air flowing in defiance of Heraclitus, that you can breathe twice, and lose shingles from any direction. Bottles in the window sparkle with the names of defunct institutions and entrepreneurs. Purple and green…
I felt it when they hammered out these feet and carved the flesh between these long toes of mine and when they rubbed narrow the stalks of my legs into calves and thighs—yes then and when they shaped my groin outward instead of in and rounded my ass same as everyone’s yes—then…
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