But every so often it goes berserk
And slips away from all control
It injects all sorts of liquids, starts to speak in tongues
And becomes infected with French syphilis or English rickets
Disrupting discotheques or buses filled with children
It dreams of ascension into heaven
(poetry/translations)
Someone is calling to you from the sea,
beating the heavy waves with his tired hands.
(poetry/translations)
The song might be the length it took for a historic city to be destroyed (twenty-two minutes) one February evening.
Who collects the snow globes of war and of fathers?
A collection of snow globes, each says “it is snowing.”
(poetry)
… it should be noted that this is not the first time Zimbabwe has had an incident involving someone claiming to be a dead public figure from the past.
(No Place is Foreign)
…the promise of fulfillment rather than just a hole here or there or in several places at once…
(nonfiction)
Revolution / is the party we throw / at our unhappiness when we discover it / looks like tyranny
(poetry)
sharp lady heels sinking into the future // drawn fatefully in my tat of moth lace
(poetry)
The footbridge is missing a plank. / He has frayed the regard of everybody he knows.
(poetry)
Another Chicago Magazine 