Poetry

  • Aporia

    Translated from the Spanish by Jesse Lee Kercheval Ocean, there is nonewithout shipwrecks, without the drownedwithout victimsthere is no      oceanthat does not lick the shore      like a sore     or a wound.

  • Elegy for the Road

    Translated from the Spanish by Jesse Lee Kercheval       I ask where the things go that did not arrive at their destination. Themajority of things. The largest inventory in the world. Where are theygoing to end up, the things that do not end up anywhere. Those thatfail, those that have no remedy. I ask where do…

  • ~.xxx

       …even if all the animals are oracles, I don’t want to have a bee under my pillow, even if it’s just a sign of the druidic image of community, even if it signifies the solar dance of the bee replicating the hive of the many in the streets or the village, signified clairvoyants of ultraviolet…

  • Horse Fantasies

    for all the horses I didn’t get to ridethe years of my girlhood in Montana.I wasn’t Terry Jo, the last childand only daughter of a rancherwhose spread lay deepin the sheepland steppe, forty milessouth of our little town.Terry Jo, whose mother, like allthe ranchers’ wives, moved to townwhen snow closed the ranch roads,so her child…

  • Wolves Keep in Touch by Howling

    and I keep in touch with you’re pissing me off you’re pushing my buttonsI’m not interested in rescheduling Listen! Do you hear that? That’s my tongue licking a laceration, a bloody metacarpal, a fracture; that’s my nasal baritone, my UUUUUU unfurling your foothold. Wolves keep in touch, and I with my keen sense sense extirpation…

  • Reading

    Sometimes I read pages of books without retaining anything.I am thinking about my own drama and caesurauntil I come across a word like creosote, which seems familiarbut I have to look up. When I go to the dictionary, I realizeI am wondering who will bury me and where,going over the time I was almost hit…

  • Bare Trees

    They are big fans of horror film.In the fading light of a November afternoon,The gray surface of a pondLooks like a movie screen to them. The moving branches reflected in itAre like the fingers of the blindGroping to touch the face of someoneWho’s been calling out to them In the voice of geese flying overhead,The…

  • Writing

    There are feelings I would rather not have,so I avoid certain types of texts and images—particularly pornography. Sometimes I think this makes mea better person, but, in actuality, it also makes me a coward.Am I so afraid I’ll enjoy some ridiculously sexist fantasy?I’m not sure what I’d do with the uglinessI’d find inside me. Don’t…