h o m e........
p a s t   i s s u e s....
s u b m i s s i o n s....
l i n k s






After the election 
some of us felt lost, wandered out
onto the runway and lay down.
Airplanes rolled over us, landed
and departed. We began to glow.
We began to flatten and line up.
It was the least we could do



Then a small contentment 
gave way

to a vast contentment,
pollen sifted down

yellow and blue,
sea anemone nesting

in the mountains,
I was carrying a question

about the social order
and two questions about doubt.

Night was making something

asymmetrical like smoke,
a conspiracy of birch and coal barges,

I could hear the air

arrange itself into ladders,
finch chicks sparked matches

in the awnings
with their hunger,

I felt like committing treason.

I could discern limits
to the invisible

but the visible redeemed us



Suddenly I was aware 
my feet wanted to be wings,
and my hands wanted to be eyes.

It had been so all along.

My wrists hoped to be hip joints,
and my jaw, to become a rib.
It was tender and astonishing
so I held myself and wept.

Nothing in history was my fault.
It had all been forgiven.
Curtains sloughed off their inertia,
the ashtrays suddenly gleamed.

I was thinking of a borderless soccer pitch
of vermillion grass and buffalo,
the players loped over hills, each in his own
private rapture.
The wind
was traced in platinum, and the sky
was listening



A bird of sound 
immune to the weather
nested near my childhood.

Somebody made it on the glass anvil.

I deliver the mud each spring,
jonquils along the highways.

The clock hand completes its revolution
in exactly one minute.

A dead angel passes on the road.
My old dumb dog doesn’t even bark

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