Poetry

Someone came in to ask how are you only I couldn’t quite hear the words, I thought he was asking who. who are you? so I started to say my name’s Jordan, only I never got past the vowel I’m Joe just Joe call me Joe then I stopped to think maybe I really am…

Then the mind is a white room behind the eyes — the heart beats, far below like an animal breathing quietly in sleep, emptying over and over. If anyone comes please say I am not at home. Bones are a glass staircase I climb without looking down. A hand held to the light, glows red…

IV. Most of the old buildings are gone now — you can blame fire, or progress, or both. Forensic Hall, known to some as “Frenzy,” built by the students in 1874: demolished before the first World War: Forensic and dancing — thermometer two degrees above zero. The cotillion: Five couples plus two stags, the hall…

She writes that she has not been well and adds “but this will not be news.” She complains of the rise in the cost of living and notes that Alfred, the parrot, has died. “Or feigns to have.” She is not sure except that the bird has not stirred in a fortnight. “Do parrots hibernate?”…

By the road in the field they stand, lifting branches they cannot remember, rocking shut in the wind. In some other world they grew such trunks and hurled their leaves across the sky. Now, emptyhanded, they wait for the end which has been happening for years. Nodding off beside telephone wires, tethered to farmhouses, the…

Green leaves lit by the sun, the rest deep in shadow . . . a tree is an adequate symbol of inner or spiritual life. (“The natural object,” said E. P., “is always the adequate symbol.”) It wasn’t just characters . . . one heard that successful men, corporation executives, were into transcendental meditation. But…

When they asked me what happened to my wedding portrait, I lied. I said I destroyed it. Instead, I hid it. Hid it and found it and hid it again. They should have known I couldn’t destroy it. I have had to remove the pictures of people from the walls of my room so the…

Oddly, being so large gave them a sense of possibility. Women with huge upper arms felt freer. Children never stopped opening the landscapes of flesh that grew in their hands. The few thin ones were called “chinless” because their long faces seemed indistinguishable from their necks. No one knows when they began to seem beautiful,…

She is on her knees pulling weeds. Her soul is desirous, it longs for cucumbers and melons if they will grow. When the earth was without form, and void, and darkness upon the face of the deep, the soul was born, a piece of the void broken off . . . the winged Psyche, Desire,…