Poetry

2 Korean Girls

June. A white heat. Two schoolgirls with crisp collars tread home on a red road.    Two young boys with crew                                                                                                          cuts yawn in the third tank, blink  from five hours sleep.    Blue dragonflies, girlsweat,    orange dust on Adidases… Green interior. Boysweat.        A twist of knobs and dials. Down the…

A Sunday in God Years

Like someone trying to nap in a room with a glaring terrarium God rolls over but before resuming his dream where He’s a lover decked out in a sunbeam, He glances at the blue planet he made, at continents crashing and mountains popping up, at sheets of dirt settling in streams and streams settling in…

Chess Match Ends in Fight

As one opponent calling out checkmate an hour past midnight could crack a man already broken and bring allegations from his tongue, violence to his veins, bring him to rise and hip-knock the table so the legs screech, so the pieces quiver and topple, the bishop a salt shaker kissed by an elbow, bring him…

The Second Night

Outside the white cottage, a half-dozen chairs set out. A run of rocky fields washed by starlight. Full moon rising off the cliffs cutting a path to the islands. Inside the cottage, the sounds of children quieting themselves. The slow scrape and rattle of chairs dragged across a linoleum floor. Last stir of footsteps fading…

Solstice: voyeur

I watched the young couple walk into the tall grass and close the door of summer behind them, their heads floating on the golden tips, on waves that flock and break like starlings changing their minds in the middle of changing their minds, I saw their hips lay down inside those birds, inside the day…

Arriving

We’re newcomers to an old place. The house was built in 1860 (so we think); since then, the Portuguese fishermen and the faded, artsy bohemians have come and started now to go, replaced by “guppies” driving Lexuses. Our street is lined with lindens, home to chickadees that play in the elaborate display of whirligigs, birdbaths,…

Drum

He lunged for the shut-off switch when he heard the scream. But the brutal five-inch teeth on the rotating drum, designed to excavate the coal face, had already destroyed helmet and hair, scalp and brain. Its rotation diminishing now, the carbide-tipped cutter bits dripping with the miner’s mistake. The noise declining as the massive drum,…

Clarinet

At the stained window, a morning jay. I stop my scissoring, as if I could reclaim a Santiago of bird-call and sudden ease, as if I could annul the battle-gray maze of gutting jails, courthouses, morgues— purgatory where I bend over the burlap, again and again, to show the world the smashed black bell of…