“How to Become a Clown”
“A Small Thing”
“In Contemplation of an ‘Ornamental’ Banana Tree on the Grounds of a Resort While Vacationing”
“A Quiet State After Some Period of Disturbance”
“Exalted or Worthy of Complete Devotion”
“Firing Squad, Convergence, Jackson Pollock”
“Metronome Maple & Betye Saar”
“Birding While Black”
“A Late Exam at the River Lethe”
You grow very sleepy. / Then, like a breached ship / on a darkening sea, / you slip out of sight.
Every day she must locate herself, / as her neighbors need not who can lean on a world of words. / Poetry is a land she must not enter / is she is to keep her abandonment complete. (Jewish poetry)
teach me to hold truth between my teeth / like a hard lump of Russian sugar, / suck in the sweetness of integrity / with every sip of strong black tea (Jewish poetry)
We ask for bread and are not / satisfied. We ask for stone / and sand runs through our fingers. (Jewish poetry)
That’s how it is with my kind: our own body betrays us / our own tongue turns us in to the authorities. (Jewish poetry)
there is // rushing wind at my ears and feet / as the ceiling glides above me. (Jewish poetry)
yet sometimes a child’s song, key to something / that is not, surely not, nothing, as after Patroklos is speared. (Jewish poetry)
Two white haired ladies / miles from Memphis. / Would apologies be offered / for words only one / remembers?
In the old language / we told the best stories of your life, / and for the first time in my life / I felt I really understood you.
One by one by one / our bones come to meet you— / it’s an open house day, / we meet-and-greet new guests
Do you see the world / as anything more than a translucent sheet lifted / by Divine breath?
in the center of my heart they buried a limewood carving of a bird.
“Ghost poems of a haunted landscape, told in almost hypnotic lyricism, somehow bleed seamlessly into haunted writers and artists suffering in landscapes far from the West,” writes Sadie Hoagland.
what can somewhere provide beside a concrete babbling brook / with loose boulders.
we gently break their beacons from our ankles / caress the skin where now the signals stop.
It had crushed her trailer / while she watched / Queen for a Day / on a TV crowned with rabbit ears.
Wandering around some post-nuke safari park / With cauliflower growing out of my arm / Like a freak at night
Robber barons are laughing themselves silly as they devour your / neighbors. / Don’t worry. / It’s not you they are after.
little teeth of pinion, / gears of language / spinning in your mouth
How could / the hand’s reflexive twitch undo centuries of survival? / Something as simple as an approaching outlier of thunder / cause devastation to a thing come so far?
Sunbeams drop and scatter / like shrapnel across bald pavingstones asizzle / in the dust of your passing.