Category Uncategorized

Scheggia / Shrapnel

I am very happy to have my poem Scheggia / Shrapnel featured in a web-exclusive for World Literature Today So what did you do with your freedom? A kind of blackout, he said, I did what one does. I anesthetized it. That’s: me. Read more by following the embedded links above

Queen of the Catacombs

After many wanderings the Queen has finally found a home thanks to the fine folks at RIC Journal…buona lettura A heavy, humid day to September’s end an old tobacco and sweat-encrusted queen crookedly steps from the backseat of a car and shuffles across the white piazza. Middle-aged to twilight, she says to herself, I know […]

January

A top-thin pine drips winter Rain, red brick wet, white sash And windowpane; sky a wash Of gray on gray on gray (impromptu, Friday, January 4th)

This Broken-Waisted Waltz

Morning through the window, the inner courtyard: no shaft but throat, the space, the pearlflecked light now cotton, now cocooned. Tea. A candle. The same sweater worn for weeks. Radio. Black bread with cheese. The light that comes. The window. The silence. The story here has always been the same: back & forth a wandering […]

Chromatic

Stuck in a yellowed silence then simply stuck one post-catastrophe. Loves, leaves, that which was come apart in between. Colours now darker. Landscape other. Which worlds unsung which ones to come in that expanse the singular bloom: you: committed cadence of undoing. Some afternoons a wash of Flemish light flame-lined they flared across the iron […]

New website

http://www.wordkunst.com  

Eveningsong

Slim sun-edged thumb Of Roman brick Umbered, undone This late valley dozing Under a late spring sun You still want what will not last Still before the blue At evening, sound, come * (this poem originally appeared in Oxford’s halfcircle poetry journal, Issue 2)

Heimweh

My contribution to Anke Becker’s “Heimweh” project has at long last finally arrived..thank you for reading

Pleasure’s wreath no flower

What time we had most Likely wasted & no way Now of getting back Afternoon adagio Into evening as the ever August into wine Straw burned winds warm Azalea, oleander & ruin * (this poem originally appeared in Oxford’s halfcircle poetry journal, Issue 2)

fernweh

Thankfully my own contribution to my good friend Anke Becker’s project Fernweh has finally arrived to her in distant Nebraska…I urge you to also take a moment to view her own work