Category: poems

• Geography is Cruel

  It can’t be about the running anymore. It can’t be about the treasure, illusory as the rainbow under which it never really waited. It can’t…

• Seven Breezes

  Standing on the side of an Indiana back road I look in nine directions and count seven breezes going by, the one that cools, the one that…

• Wild Abundance and Other Valuable Things

  So much is Woolf’s grimy pence and pounds, ledger entries and balance sheets. The bankers convince us to run our lives like (small, under-capitalized) start-ups,…

• Crazy

  Crazy to be writing poems When the world is on fire. Crazy not to.

• Poets at 50

  Poets at 50 quote Ginsburg and Snyder, if you’re a woman you’ll channel Mary Oliver, and whisper every line of Wild Geese as you fold…

• Missy Goes to Work

  Missy takes the bus downtown gets off at Sixth and Vine by the YMCA where she works in the daycare soothing crying children whose own mothers…

• Like a Hand into a Pocket

  Your history disappears into the folds of an apron like a hand into a pocket, your body of work the carcass of a feeder pig…

• My Favorite Morning Poem of the Week

  There is nothing so mundane as dreaming of toilets (and waking with the need to pee) but oh! what toilets I’ve seen in dreams! There was one…