Poetry

for my great-grandfather We ran from a home                                   we never saw again. Saw nothing                                               remain ours. My arm shot               from my body. My wife’s broken neck. Our son burned                                 into a wing of smoke. A peeled face boiling with flies.                                             A man tearing his gangrened leg off              with his…

What else could the boy have done? Wasn’t flight both an escape and a great uplifting? And so he flew. But how could he appreciate his freedom without knowing the exact point   where freedom stopped? So he flew upward and the sun dissolved the wax and he fell. But at last in his anticipated…

Morning met the grass in whiteness white sparks, chalk and bone. Noon was a gristle of crickets. Dusk was black leaf smoke, quick, then dark, star-still, darker still.

Say genius is one side of the mountain, then is vanity the other? Consider Daedalus after he escaped from the king’s prison. The king pursued him. He had many jewels   but Daedalus was brightest. Of course Daedalus concealed himself. The king went to his lesser kings and set them a task. He gave each…

Mealy-bugs, shootflies in squadrons, mites. A leech sucks your ankle. A slug slides up your leg; curdled ooze, the glue in the globs of it, leaky muck and swamp water, a lacy scree of green laid upon its surface, glug, glug, mush and slough, bug manure. Each step each leg lugged from its last footprint:…

“Dear Muzz,” I wrote, the summer I was ten from a seedy nature camp in the Poconos with cows and calves, huge geese, some half-wild ponies —heaven for the urban savage I was then— “I have to do this letter to get breakfast. Kiss Kerry for me. I milked a cow named Clover.” (Kerry, my…

A bird sings from the tree. The birds sing sending waves of desire—and I stand on my roof waiting for a randomness to storm my days. I stand on my roof filled with the longing that sings its way out of the bird. And I am afraid that my call will break me, that the…

My friend says yes to this, yes to that,     Lies in bed all day saying answers, His life reduced each hour to this: water,       Paper-thin sheath of flesh, various cancers That he allows, even befriends.     Some of us will die of greedier   Diseases, some by their own skeletal hands.    …

The splendid coat that wrapped the favored son In fevered dreams of adulation And turned his brothers’ hearts from jealousy To rage (Behold, this dreamer comes)—though long Since rent and soaked in blood, dried and decomposed— Arrives through the long centuries over Sea and land, the unexpected birthright Of this particular girl. Its separate Magic…