Category Archives: Poetry

16th Avenue

Behind is nothing but tenebrous mountain peaks looming close to home and a trail of oil from something rumbling in the dark. Ahead farmlands sink impetuous beneath a foot of rain so fence posts protrude like arms from a grave … Continue reading

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Decomposition

Even without an audience you’ll fight anything: the last peach rotting in the fruit basket, the dust I leave under the bed and the big dumb December moon. Your jaw unhinges like the snake you ran over on the way … Continue reading

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Dancing Fools

In a house with no doors we lie on the floor while the ceiling whirs vigorously above us. You pull me up, furniture vanishes, and we gyrate through a bare room to no music until we’re stiff with longing and … Continue reading

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A Beacon of Hard Questions

If I look out my window at night I see the lone light on the mountain across the valley, glinting rude accusations at me, a conversation I’ll sidestep until I die. It’s there every night regardless of weather and makes … Continue reading

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A Catalog of Marriage

You still don’t know I went to a psychic the first month after we married to see if I should stay—a lifetime suddenly felt like a drowning, me looking up through water at your face distorted by waves & a … Continue reading

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One of Those Winter Evenings

Equipped with scissors, I head toward the shed, a plywood structure with spaces between the boards. Mom has handed me over to her friend, Ann, while Mom celebrates her divorce and vacations for two weeks in Florida. To secure a … Continue reading

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Ars Botanica

Blind tendril curving toward the light, opening upward, intent, buttressed by a vine coiled about its stem like a cable, lifting its budding tip, an arrow aimed at the sky. Growth reaching, silent engines building, to what end? This vegetal … Continue reading

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Instant Coffee

In the field it was medicinal. Huddled under my camo hooch, raindrops pelting the poncho. Meals-ready-to-eat came with a water heater: steaming sludge in a tin cup, monitoring radio static in a storm while the joes slept in the chilled … Continue reading

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Reptilian

On a quiet afternoon in spring you ask me to paint your nails with watercolors. Of course I indulge you. You still think there’s nothing I don’t know how to do. How could you conclude otherwise? Remembering just this morning … Continue reading

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Catskill Eagle

For S.N. Come here, sky child, and let me hold you.             Step down from the clouds and I will wring the thunder from your hair. We have left you             up there in that ribbed cage for too long now stranded … Continue reading

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What is the distant universe to a mother on vacation?

—after the publication of the James Webb Space Telescope photographs Time is everywhere. She lifted her family Here, their first vacation in two years, to breathe at a distance from the unstoppable current of their lives. But she’s found her … Continue reading

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The Autopsy Of A Body In The Hands Of Grief

this is what I mean when I say, I’ve made it through hell before:                                                 my body / becomes a tulip / budding grief /                                                 a river / gushing blood / & an hematoma /                                                 brimming weaknesses / on my face … Continue reading

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My Body Is A Harem Of Littered Debris

“…more than 1000 people killed in Afghanistan earthquake…” — CNN June 22, 2022 report. & each day, I try to wash myself in the sun without burning, without becoming a sculpture of charcoals. I try to paint myself in the … Continue reading

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A Funeral in the Wild

An uprooted tree rests on the shoreline. The waters have buried its branches and reeds have come to pay their respects. Above the black glass of lake, the sky covers the trees like a mother swaddling her infant. The willow … Continue reading

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Immune Response

The year the world ended my hair fell out in clumps, like fiber optic Christmas lights stringed around my hands or blue blooded worms, dyed artificial and neon I could feel it tangling around my fingers I watched it slither … Continue reading

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Bloody Mary

Mary Shelley and her friends told scary stories underneath the clouds. It is the middle of May and frost blankets the flowers. My mask steams up my glasses. I hand back a credit card to a bare-faced woman in exchange … Continue reading

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Customer Service

When I met my first poet, I had been standing in the same place for ten hours. I was sticky with melted marshmallow and needed more coffee than I had. There was no limit to the number of smiles and … Continue reading

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Giving

Wednesday is an ammonite graveyard, a bleached white cove of stone and chert. Daddy long legs are feeling their way through our camp, where our heater singes the air, a blanket lies half-buried. I count their legs aloud with my … Continue reading

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Our Cicadas

Overnight the ground becomes Swiss cheese; you overlook the subtlety, first notice them singing, look up into the vibrating trees. Your worried brow asks me about the sudden buzzing; I say—cicadas. You shuffle closer from the sound, my hissing consonants … Continue reading

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Crows Through Windows

I dreamt you were a crow outside my window on a gray-white cloud, a black boomerang returning as a bird. I wanted to rub out my lashes, recycle your feathers, help your hollow bones fly home, put birdseed in your … Continue reading

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Whitney

I have never been where the road is a straightaway, not for years— had no intentions to ever go back to where the daffodil-dashed lines end on fatigue, where I left Whitney. Where I left Whitney, her campground of velvet … Continue reading

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A Way Back Home

I teach myself to dress as creeping figs on a sway of fence, how to mourn neon joy leaping over onto my neighbors’ lawn— like a loose gumball, why leopard geckos run inside, leave their tails and die. This is … Continue reading

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Rio Vista

My first memory was rain, movement, drifter feet plying down the roofline in sheets; nothing was separate: the T-frame wires through the spread of distance, the dance of clothespins and the grease trap that once ate a girl. The rain—its … Continue reading

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1996-2001

I want to go to the farmer’s market             and find an orange watermelon, watch you roll its pregnant belly around             and knock on it to see if it’s sweetest. We can take it home and divide it             over a table … Continue reading

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That Feeling That Everything Is Possible

Smiling calmly, you asked if I would choose to live forever if I could. I said yes, thinking, as we lay together on your old couch, that I could spend forever splayed out in that naked cross we’d made on … Continue reading

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