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Category Archives: Poetry
Good Man
His face half-formed in light, he trembles to greet me, his hands ashake, his mouth, his head. In this dream, its dimness, never complete though more real than others, he is dead, forever gone. I remember then that I forgot … Continue reading
Dissolving into Screens
Surely my brother recalls the old porch, our family dissolving into screens. Now, his dining room table—gone. His children, too, so young they dance at the fact of two houses: new beds, new bedrooms—old table. The front light stays on. … Continue reading
The Theater Director
for Mei Ann Teo (Pershing Square, Grand Central Terminal, June 19, 2019) Seven years near Boston, from nine to fifteen, while daddy pondered math education and wrote his thesis, she was bitch-slapped right back to Singapore by RGS. She slipped … Continue reading
Finger Trap
It almost feels normal or at least you could trick yourself into thinking so – each morning loosening The valves On the espresso machine, the steam on the sidewalk The long walk to the train station An endless monotony of … Continue reading
climb
sitting under a japanese maple we look at the blue temporary sky and i want to name it for you. all winter we’ve battled what gutters and unravels the dependable afternoon of meaning to be other people than we are … Continue reading
When the Song Ends
When the black cat purrs in her lap and the white wicker rocker creaks on the cement porch, she looks indifferently at the unopened envelope delivered this morning bearing a Wyoming cancellation postmarked between the western prairies of Nebraska and … Continue reading
West of Topeka
Ominous black clouds gather, splash a licorice tint against the afternoon sky, hours after a landscape artist daubed earthtones from her wooden palette. Locals instinctively know the fast moving storm could spawn funnel clouds, its moisture flooding parched fields while … Continue reading
Near Wichita
When the last magenta strands fade into dull charcoal, patches of goldenrod etch the fenced fields in ochre. The magpie awaits chilly nights, mourns the departure of crickets and fireflies. The notes of this quiet song rustle corn stalks, permeate … Continue reading
Iowa, Off I-80
At the hour before dusk a strawberry skyscape envelops the house resting under a stand of cottonwoods, the two silos squirreling this year’s harvest, a field of stoic sunflowers lifting moon-shaped faces. the freshly plowed fields— their deep furrows mirroring … Continue reading
75%
Fizzling out at night whatever climax was nigh slips away hidden in dark folds slippery eel * Life insurance willing to pay out 75% for living people with GBM With the money they go to Disney Mecca for three fourths … Continue reading
OCD
Guardrail folded around an invisible body the case of a missing person melancholia’s inability to mourn * Lili returns to IKEA for the umpteenth time small imperfections in white paint * Prozac proven to improve perfectionism How as a girl … Continue reading
Sno-Storm
3:36 a.m. Lili shakes my leg ice rain crinkles like cellophane against the window or the window could be the crinkling of a sheet of cellophane Lying awake I re-bone high school chemistry on YouTube rehash old debate cases failed … Continue reading
Remembers
Summer now embers, November slumbers. Darker hours have given way to darker days and darker months met with vivid apparitions of leering pumpkins, bursting stars, burning men and pretty skulls. Beneath a quilt of downy clouds the hills count their … Continue reading
Summer’s Song
Summer is a bass note. It buzzes down on us, not like bees, but as a humming amplifier, an electric pylon, a hot helicopter whose hot pilot’s headphones are tuned in to a clear channel of crickets chirping all day … Continue reading
Modesphere
Unbuild this house in my sleep, call it your own dream. In a minute, it will be tomorrow. Any old hypotenuse from there to here will do. Fracture makes pure fact in due time. Sheila E. Murphy is an American … Continue reading
Grappelli
Staccato takes you all the way to bed I heard the tone above the tone amounting to bow on string ‘s rich ping apres. So closure wears the dust weaned from a numbing harvest chapter, verse, disbursed. Unless you can pronounce sadness … Continue reading
Shadow Work
What is a God to the doubt of themself? A pile of ash praying at my feet I used to believe myself monolith Until the crumble cracked its teeth And pressed me flush with the dirt I have been uncertain … Continue reading
Supposedly Serious Shit
There was a fire in the garage where my brother tried to kill himself. A roommate on leafy greens left a cigarette burning. It burnt the bikes but my mom refurbished one. It’s on the balcony. When I called, sobbing … Continue reading
Kitten in a Sack
It’s the lease. And loneliness. Sometimes when BoneEyes has got me in a tizzy and vodka’s got 6’9”, he likes to taunt me about my friends. He says that they like him more than me, that they hate my crazy, … Continue reading
I Have a Big Penis
Or maybe I am a big dick. Flaccid in the world until there’s passion, then I grow hard and turn away. There haven’t been too many complaints. And they’re not on the negative side. Girth. Space. I used to have … Continue reading
Tow Truckers Are People Too
Sometimes, the day after, I wake up to bruises. But the ground swears it wasn’t involved. And I believe him. Have you ever been hit? The ground slaps hard. So do flights of stairs that leave you on a creaking … Continue reading
The Baboons Burned in Their Cage
My family went to Texas. San Antonio. My brother and I were born there. At night, the X and I would sneak out to the River Walk. We’d have beers in the mugginess. A bar with a bulldog as their … Continue reading
Penance
How serious you are, hanging herbs to dry. Before dawn, as if thyme could shrink this grief or pull another deer from your heart – back from this war, before the next – I’m sorry for last night. The way … Continue reading
Walking in the Dawn, Hamburg
The sun a large orange marble rises behind the Köhlbrandbrücke and the minarets of factories dedicate their smoke to the light, all silhouetted against the silver horizon like shadows cast against a wall, and a young couple walk arm in … Continue reading
The Man of Many Faces
has been left by her, lost himself, but he talks with cocky certainty; he claims that his personality has evacuated him. Perhaps he is just going through the motions of having one. He’d had passport troubles, he said, partly because … Continue reading
