Poetry

Is this the Virgin Mary in the garden, her blue gown bleached off by too much sky?  (Look how the world has bled me dry.)  Or— Two white bowls of milky soup?  Or— The veil snatched too quickly away from the faceless woman’s face?  Or— Could this be the naked breasts (my own) as seen […]

Again today, each thing’s busy inventing the whole point of itself.  The sun, whiskery with fire, burns. The fish, predictabilities, swim.  Downstairs, some- one fiddles with the knob on the radio:  Handel, Johnny Cash, Handel, Johnny Cash.  The oxygen in the tank, and on the table, the syringe.  The tape, the gauze, the diligent dog, […]

Once upon a summer float, only water came out of our guns. Andy Warhol’s hair and his eyebrows made sky strips. We were not chipper about it. To be present both in the present and in the push is a cow and a wall. Where were we when? The planet continues turning in space as […]

I am not sleeping all night in a big hotel by the sea. Patti Smith is listening to Queen Cement. You don’t push the bad thing off but let it break off on its own. So if meaning has you in it and truth does not, then certain things are for certain, and it’s okay […]

I’m in Tulip and Bird City, Ohio. I’m sorry I’m too busy with my shoveling to talk to you. I just want to tell you I use every bit of what I have and it depends on who loves who and who wants what and what it is. I’m in Dingle. I’ve paused the machine. […]

with Jesused wingspan / a body composing suspended T / teeth jumping ship / maw-swell turnover-heavy / the bull shark knows chronic loss and a ceaseless rise in its body count / and she / my buoyant familiar / my woman of nostril and scale / pushed into land / a tempest giving birth to […]

before / I said / if touch didn’t mean ownership I’d swim with more women / I’d bare down into the surf if pressing my belly to land didn’t express sovereignty / I’d flop down with my jugular exposed to love if it didn’t insist on mapping my tender points with a blade / since […]

A cat in Hong Kong is called a “mimi,” because it’s not “meow, meow,” but “mimi, mimi.” That’s also the name of Hello Kitty’s twin. My mother calls out to mimi while Grandma picks out lychee and longan. Then it’s time to head to the butcher’s. I stare at the huge pig’s head at the […]