Poetry

The Birthmark

You showed up late and angry. You shat upon the floor. With that, how could we fail to recognize you? Your father, grief’s tent show wizard, the long connected silks pouring from his sleeve. And your mother? Haven’t you known me wholly as the spider knows each tilting and imperfect room she sews to be…

from The Fatalist

I could think the novella. I could compose over time “their code, their shorthand bells.” There’s a cart and there’s a peach: two things but no ambiguity. Little Kaspar lies in the dark alone on a list with his wooden horse. Little Fred, barely able to contain his eagerness to record his experiences, rushes to…

Homage to Giorgio Morandi

You, of all the masters, have been the secret sharer Of what’s most important,                                             exclusion, Until the form is given us out of what has been given, And never imposed upon, Scrape and erase, scrape and erase                                                          until the object comes clear. I well remember the time I didn’t visit you In Bologna,…

Maelstrom

Wind shook the trees and rain crackled at the windows. Could it have been any other way? Rain coming down, clothes wet, water dripping from our hair? At the window, could it have been a ghost singing its final warning? Clothes wet, water dripping from our hair, he fell on me like rain. I could…

Misunderstanding

translated by G. Wiersma let’s ignore what happened in the past in a place that could be anywhere a lamp flickers between sparks of light in darkness I am precisely etched happiness or suffering just at this moment are indistinguishable

Six Words

yes no maybe sometimes always never Never? Yes. Always? No. Sometimes? Maybe— maybe never sometimes. Yes— no always: always maybe. No— never yes. Sometimes, sometimes (always) yes. Maybe never . . . No, no— sometimes. Never. Always? Maybe. Yes— yes no maybe sometimes always never.