(all that’s left now, from before) and we are not content with our empty lives,with our shallow deaths, andso we invent wars we draw sketches of invisible gods,but with the wrong hand andwith our eyes closed we drown secret poem of grace & beauty #1dig your own grave,then,here at the end of augustand cover yourself w/ birdsong w/ the faded plastic toys left in              abandoned back yards … Continue reading →

If Everything Is Maria Always something that needs to bekept from someone, and soI stay quiet Always a truth I would tell youthat might feel like a lie A room filled with enemies orex-lovers, a boat on fire in the … Continue reading →

walk away/like a fool someone telling you it’salmost too late your entire life,and then it is, and is thiscomedy or is ittragedy? do you outlive your children orbury them all one at a time? and maybe i’m part ofthis particular … Continue reading →

st elena speaks with the voice of a carrion bird the almost and thealways and the never and theneverything in between close yr eyes do you see now? let the map take youfrom here to there let the desert be … Continue reading →

owego poem, from a great distance or all of us fucked like dogs in the rain or maybe just some of us beaten with the myth of god or of us raped but all of us left for dead and … Continue reading →

the distant past, approaching standing in the sunlit spaces of late-afternoon shadows, he is talking to pollock who is dead but the truth is something else altogether warm for november but not                 … Continue reading →

CROSSING Fearful of cars going both wayson Storrow Drivewith chill wind blowing my hair around,my lost nerves are already in an accident scenewhere I’m the one laid out on the roadwhile the pale-faced driver of an SUVscreams out – “It … Continue reading →

ODE TO THE CURATOR Wherever you hang paintings,the walls are willing. And every heavy sculpturethe floorboards are eager to hold up. Wherever you put them,all are there to please you. If works of art were lovers,you’d be the one they … Continue reading →

Great Blue Heron The great blue heron is a complex fantastic mystery to me,More grey than blue, with awkward elongated neck,Standing in the conical pond like a statue,Completely motionless, moving nary a muscle.The pond is grey the colour of a … Continue reading →

Poet Staggers Cancels Out the Dark There is a poem in my hearta stop-gap love that cancelsthe chamber beats.I can’t dismiss the cane I walk withor the heavy, pounding heart, missing breath.There are prayers of my past etchedin abuse that … Continue reading →