Poetry
Fall 2009
My Lethe
A door blew open, and a black river flowed into the house. It was my river, invisible except to me. At night it would come to me, and carry the […]
Poetry
Fall 2009
The Long Bony Faces of the Mules
In an early memory, the heads of two black mules appear out of fog over a single strand of barbed wire. In another, I stand rattling the crib bar, alone, […]
Poetry
Spring 2005
Centaur
The first typeface I loved was Centaur, cut by Bruce Rogers in 1914. It had animal bones, and reminded me of skinny-dipping at night, baptized in star water so cold […]
Poetry
Spring 2005
Dream Baby
What if you could dream what you dreamed as a baby? You'd have to abandon this conciousness in which we converse to reinhabit the mindless and bodiless infant senses, the […]
Poetry
Spring 2005
Infant Pearls
On the subjects of poetry and love, I ask a lot of questions that are the children of the questions I should be asking, but S just dances out there […]
Poetry
Summer/ Autumn 1997
Private Airplane
On the grass airfield, a wife is waiting in her four-wheel drive. Soon her husband will appear like a tiny black angel, and when the winds and commotion of his […]
Poetry
Summer/ Autumn 1997
Saint Animal
Suddenly it was clear to me— I was something I hadn't been before. It was as if the animal part of my being had reached some maturity that gave it […]
Poetry
Summer/ Autumn 1997
The Innocent One
The watcher guarded the innocent one, that was their relationship. When the innocent one was in danger, had angered the mother or the father maybe, walked out on some thin […]