I have so much to tell you,now that I am dead. I left my native soil in 1895 to seeka land as warm as gold,..

We return to the Grand Pacific Hotelin Suva, Fiji, but it is not the way it was or what we thought it was:the cold lobster almost..

There’s a temporary campground, with a tent,billowing-white, just off Sprague Ave. in Tacoma. Keep your daughter home.  Make popcorn with salt,buttery-warm. Let her watch the..

The tiny cottage in the woods is abandoneduntil the woman whose husband drinkstakes refuge thereafter a bender,without regret.The woman loves her husband,and this is how..

A pedicure is an archaeological expedition, if those feet belong to your mother.   A part of this country was your beginning of history.  A faded..

(Rosa Bonheur, Rue des Tournelles, Paris 1836)  My easel billetedbetween stove and painting chest,Most mornings Papa teachesat an atelier for young ladies,later portrait sittings–a  Portuguesefactory..

Image etched by Antoine Jean Duclos (French, Paris 1742–1795 Paris) CategoriesPoetry

That summer at the ranch, one seasonbefore Stanley hung himself in the toolshed,with rope worn from countless tie-downs–choosing his own handiwork over cancer–there was a..

I’ve never before been intosomeone with such small breastsI like my hands to overflow with themto see their teardrop formblood rushes to imagine the color..

I guess I could discuss phantoms and pharaohsand the places in between them,or rhyme schemes and what is palatable. it’s been weeksof perpetual reflection.I’ve been..

Consider the space between A  B,the middle sister nobody sees,or the last invited, all set to gobut left behind wearing a new green coat,speechless, while..

Bangkok, Thailand The white egrets in the treetuck up their legs, as still asthe noon heat. In last night’s dreammy high school flamehad been left..

When they buried me they put all my statuesIn the very ditch in which I was to be put. Next they put in my estate,Then my..

I hope morning is only a suggestion.I hope we linger in bed to memorizeSpring spilling warm sky outside,a collage of our lives as rose-lit.  I..

a night of a friday on the table next to many empty bottlesi have a penholder two packs of cigarettesa desk lamp and a notebook.on..

Zanskar, 1921 Your body will be placed on a large flat rock,High on a ridge in the mountains.The carrion birds are circling,Great wings block the..

condifluoia/ˈkɒndɪfluːɪɑ/noun: condifluoia; plural noun: condifluoia 1. the specific scent of tea leaves inboiling water when it soaks in sixstrands of freshly grated ginger on thehand-shredder,..

i’m drinking spring water in your bedroom naked head swept back and i can feel you watching my every move or memorizing my arms as..

I need to tell you about the old man sitting cross-legged on the crackedconcrete outside the Life building lifting drowningants out of a puddle with..

I. Pudgal, my grandmother explained, is the matter that sticksto your soul when you do a bad thing.Cloistered in the sunlight, stippled skin gleamingDidi probably..

One of my kids is crying because a girl in the other second grade class fainted during the experience:    A mobile planetarium in the gym,   harsh..

As if the zither wouldn’t quiverVibrate its songThe reconciliation between various components of the familyThe doubtful connectionBetween the kiss of associationAnd loveThe drum double drummingOf..