Poetry

Beasts Belong To Themselves

for my friend Sweeney Post, American Legion Hall, was cold with dead spots in the boards. We practiced with herniated basketballs and rural cheerleaders. In Brooklyn, you finally screwed your Jewish Princess, mourning for her father. We lost      an infant. A big Irish nurse ate her one morning in the sunroom before the ward grew…

The Skywriter

I Five miles up, winds unravel to their different colors. The pilot gazes at the lost land. Velvet cows plod between seams of a checkerboard, green and yellow squares. The land reduces to a puzzle of primary colors. If anyone looked up they would see his plane disappear, just as he watches them melt like…

The Attache Case

People look at me and say, there’s a man who knows where he’s going. That’s because of my attaché case. If I didn’t carry it who would notice me? Entre nous, it’s filled with sand, which is running out.

Infinite Grace

If you had picked one life to live and one body to live it in you couldn’t of picked a worse carcass said the master to the devotee, thankyou master I brought you my wife and children, do with them what you will. The perfect master immediately had them all commit suicide while asking for…

Provincetown: February

On some days the mind refuses to play. Given paradise terrestrial, it can make nothing of it, craving instead its minimal dose of something lethal. But spring is arriving, the great forgiver, and it appears understood that we did not really wish to die. Blackfish Creek has gone into molt, sunken and gliding past its…

Home

It seemed to me that the old family house of my boyhood was being razed. The three-story brick front had been sheared away. Sunlight glared on the wallpaper. I saw the living room and through the French doors the dining room. I looked into my room. No bed. No bookcase. No desk. Snow began to…

Finding the Andromeda Nebula

1 Start with the brightest star in the square of Pegasus. Follow the row of stars running Northeast across the heavens, below Cassiopeia. That’s Andromeda chained to her rock. Find the one star that makes you question your vision. That’s the Andromeda Nebula, a hundred billion stars spinning like a pin-wheel, so far away that…

Illumination from a Psalter

I am not immune to your pleas of transformation. Today I burned all my socialist verse. Outdoors, a gust of wind lifted the oak leaves into a momentary show of hands. To build a life, brimming, like roses after rain, we pour contents from flask to flask, to float some dream. Yesterday we fed the…