Poetry
Spring 1983
Mythic Autobiography
They came at me with crooked teeth; I had over my eyes, it seemed, the film of the newborn who sees objects as emblems of light moving upon the film’s […]
Poetry
Autumn 1980
With Horace
With Horace I take my stand beside the rocks and clear falls. I will not be confused by sound or the stone’s hardness, being bone and brittle. Voices emerge from […]