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Leaving for Islands

(Ormos Athinios, Thira) Morning comes, and the baked look of rising early on people’s faces; or evening, and the cool with a trace of rot in it lifts off the face of the waves. And in the concrete cafe, the simple blank shoulders of fascination, changed in no year; with emptiness in their mouths —…

The Astral Body

My handwriting’s big, like grazing cattle, I’m learning cursive on the dock The summer that polio twists my mother’s legs. I write as she reads me the fable Of the prince who was sleepless for 100 years. There’s always a broken heart And I know sleepless nights are already a spell. White gauze, the curtains…

In the Country of Old Men

He woke in a different country, his own hands Rose to his mouth, and his fingers Rubbed at his eyes, and he was standing On his own feet, but the people passing Had darkened their speech like daylight going dim Around him, he told them to speak slowly, he told them To listen, please, he…

‘Heaven In Ordinaire’

—Prayer, George Herbert The sun’s going down. Which is nothing new.      And there’s nothing special about the end of this day,      Even if a lot of the things we thought we knew Start disappearing with the light. What can you say? It’s a strange feeling, kind of a relief,      To sit in the dark and…

Nature

This heat, like a blow, numbs us. Together at the side of the lake, alone, no one for miles. Far away, the occasional boat trawls the other shore. The lake is vast as an ocean, as capricious, too, calm and clear, then raging in storms, hurling tree trunks against our fragile dock. By day, mourning…

The Universal Joint

Whose heart hasn’t been broken? Or set free. Maybe that’s it. Worked in a way it was never intended, and then working that way forever. At the moment of failure — when the senses falter — there’s a sound inside the chest as if something was turning over and over. But maybe it isn’t broken….