Dear Wallace, “You were only here because”
You were only here because at some point someone made space for you I too want a predictable home so I can do whatever I want but for you and for me this translates differently what people … Read More
Dear Wallace, “Many, many animals and insects”
Many, many animals and insects lay eggs and then die or give birth and die or raise their young and die when the time is come. Humans keep living, outlive even their own kids’ lives but still there’s … Read More
Dear Wallace, “They say mother is the boredom”
They say mother is the boredom of invention. Stripes, stripes, stripes, spots. How was it in insurance Did you talk about markets while your mind scoffed? There was a little anarchy today. It was all about … Read More
Transatlantic
This alone. The man on the TSA line right in front of you, carrying caribou antlers. Yes, you drank. Yet no doubt. There he stands with the horns. And guess what. He looks like Ted Berrigan. He may be … Read More
Rumorville
Mathematicians don’t have friends. Astrophysicists: kinky. Oceanographers: beige, stringy, often unaware of holes in their hearts. Chronologists will not shut up. Chemists: introverted onanists who wear a single suit their entire life. Geologists smoke one pipe before breakfast. Archaeologists: … Read More
Truth I Tell
—after Sara Borjas There is a footrest inside of me: lie. Everyone steps on it and never wants to leave: that is a lie. I give them water and teach them my loneliness: that is a lie. They … Read More
Marge Farrell
—after I Married a Monster from Outer Space (1958) Who giveth this woman in marriage? Outside the Wee Kirk Chapel, in my coronet of white myrtle. Then, the bishop-pines, the broom corn. My bridegroom nuzzles me with feelers. … Read More
Kat Harvey
—after Casper (1995) In Friendship, Maine, in the mansion of Whipstaff I waft in eyelet lace, floor-length out the steamer trunk. There are steeples and myrtle and my dad, who says, ’Night, Bucket, Mom who said, Stardust … Read More
The Green Streetlight
The ineffable… I’ve walked into your trap. I went to a spring late at night and froze like an armless statue in the middle of an autumn garden. What should I do? Should I grab with my teeth the … Read More
Everything I Let Go of
One of us is dead. One of us sleeps in his van, parked at the curb in front of his sister’s house. I’ve just retired. In the morning I walk through the gray woods listening to the birds, … Read More
Let Me Copy the Rest of That Poem
Oh what longing, my dear young friend Each prison night I dream of your smile— Kissing my sleeve, I imagine your hair My lips are bitter, my body icy Don’t hate the rain, my dear young friend I … Read More