Poetry
Learning to Talk
I grew up in a home of whisperswhere talking took place at the table.My family sat in an “L”and eyes only met peripherally Our gaze..
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Poetry
Showing 289-312 of 671 pieces
Poetry
The Deep North
Only now can you walk a roadinto distant country, past a shrinecarved into the face of a mountain,above a forest of alpine green.Abandon this kitchen,..
Poetry
The Day Marilyn Died
In the basement, I was singing along with Pat Boone’s “Love Letters in the Sand.” I had loose slacks on because, if I wore jeans,..
Poetry
Jigsaw Afternoons
My neighbors do puzzlesin the common room.They do the fringes firstpiece by piecemulti colored housescastles on mountainsslide into placethose imaginary childhoods,the colors too bright.A little..
Poetry
Poem #30
A moth landed on my lipsAnd kissed meI turned into a skyscraper, a rose A rose is a fire engineThe street is a cup of..
Poetry
Dear June – Come in…
Dear March June – Come in… With apologies to Ms. Dickinson Dear June – Don’t stand at the doorDo come in. You are always welcome,Unlike..
Poetry
Be my Home
December came like a thiefin a black robe,at a fated hour while the Gods slept,and devoured my Dad. January cut me into shards,broke my limbs,crushed..
Poetry
Another Poem about Oranges
–Mint Vinetu Bookstore, Vilnius So, Jonas said, you should write a poemabout eating an orange at the counter.It’s a tangerine, I thought,but didn’t tell him…
Poetry
Hush
A bed of pine needles hushesThe air of Autumn Forest.Black shaded river curls overDeep green stones.Space rests.Yonder, a woodpeckerSounds the core of a frosted pineWho..
Poetry
Cardiac
A UCLA boy, crisp in cotton shirts,you came at me clean, knocking me over. Even your painwas pure back then, your sweat sweet. You ripped..
Poetry
Dream Poem
I wish I could tell youI didTell youAnd youStillDoNotKnowIt still has been a year you do not knowI could tell you and you will never..
Poetry
Natural Disasters
1. The Derecho brings change spinningfrom its edge, a clock-hand turningfrom a pivot point in the Midwest,reaching Eastern cities in the foreignlanguage of straight wind..
Poetry
In the Summer of Nasturtiums
Take a look around the roomNotice the absence of scary animalsUnpack your lunch sack you may wear out your iron soled shoes this is the pandemic..
Poetry
Funereal
I. Sheboygan, Wisconsin November, 2017 There is a postmark on your faceblocking your view of beyond.Leaves fall arraying the ground in an autumnal palette.You cannot..
Poetry
Homesick for the Dead
Stumbling through the dust of cremation bones I dream of rivers rolling wide and green and deep – time is an abstraction – you walk..
Poetry
Off the Bookshelf
The Essence of T’AI CHICH’UAN The Literary Tradition(Translated and ed. by BenjaminPang Jeng Lo et alia) My copy is falling apart;frontispiece with Chinese writing,Preface, Introduction..
Poetry
Bill of Lading
BILL OF LADING Contents received by Charon, Inc. for shipping via sea freight, for deliveryTo the nearest available port of the far shore, consigned to..
Poetry
If I made her once can I not make her again?
In the garden among flowersthe thick black ants make ecstatic highwaysover and into the sweet honeypot of cow-tongue peonies,the black-eyeds dip drunkenly into the foxgloves,all..
Poetry
Letters
When I write to you, Hello,it’s marked with swollen anticipation,and I wonderabout your interpretation:did I sound too curt?too friendly? too tender?too insecure?And when I write to..
Poetry
The Bunny Man
The electric piano comes in. It’s a Hohner Pianet.The keys go:Duh-Duh, Abm, Db/Ab,Duh-Duh, Abm7(b5), Db/Ab,Lloyd Loar’s Vivi-Tone Clavier.[1]Sharp staccato hits. Brighter, with less sustain.Did you..
Poetry
Young
I don’t rememberif we kept any plants. If we fussed over themlike new parents worried that the waterwasn’t enough or the sun. I remember a..
Poetry
Miss Alice
I remember the missionaries’ daughter Alice at Tullahasee,eating sofke, writing a Creek dictionary in her room,the stick she used to correct the wrong Mvskoke girl,teacher’s..
Poetry
Last night I dreamed my mother was Carl Reiner and I was sad she died
They had nothing in commonbesides being smart New Yorky jews,Carl was a creator and my motheran other… while laughing listeninghis 2000-year-old man spinningin shiny blackness..
Poetry
Monarch
an ironic name to give a butterfly one gets the distinct impression deposed, have been in the bloodiest of purges in whispers we cheer them on from the shadowy sidelines eagerly..