Poetry
Summer 1996
The Separation
The last thing of yours I touched was the leatherjacket, for the serenity that marks all dead thingsfrom a saint’s reliquary to the ashesof a fire. For years we flowed […]
Poetry
Summer 1996
The Gene
I abhor this clapping of thunder,the air loud and swirling like a drill routing the tropical green. I hate the verge of damage. And this war, always some war, left […]
Poetry
Summer 1996
Refreshed Apollo
We march lamely, reliably through the blowzy nightgaining only one tomorrow at a time, no durable good. The beautiful swan froths its feathers and in the high plateaus wildflowers release […]
Poetry
Summer 1996
Depth of Field
As if they were just coming clear in the developing tray,I’m studying old family photos. I am the infantin her ten-year-old arms, behind us a warposter, the nickel Coke machine. […]