Category: poems

  • from The Book of Acts: Acts of Anxiety

    Ready or not the day comes on It sits upon us with one accord Anytime a door is opened Anywhere Many are the expectations Amassed And it shall come to pass The world of consequence be with you Always

  • from The Book of Acts: Acts of Interpretation

    To become a kind of emissary I have found Wonder in pieces Moving towards me, slowly All at once the depts of time Abide Inside A lantern on the internal Intensified You can define prospect with only so much Certainty Rain pooled in the streets’ hollow I shallow the news Someone is gambling for control […]

  • City

    I’ve seen each day distantly Awoke to the sound of cars parking I look down littered alleys The rivers on either side of me I’ve had enough of the tenuous Intimacy Take a look or ignore it Always unsure From which direction the sun rose

  • Modern Times   (for Charlie Chaplin)

    The Conveyances How be attentive to this stream of bolts while breasts, buttons, fire hydrants wrench loose in the attention? The work is the tension, holding to one thing repeated down the line. But it’s the belt that moves, not these bodies disappeared in the conveyances: anything tightened trembles. Lunch Hunger juts perpendicular to the […]

  • Sea, Then Tree

    When abbatoir rhymes with method Or else expects its home to render fate wet, I shall relax any connection to forlorn destinies, Set skull to sail on the unmurderous sea. This is is hard for me, being a revanchist pillar Of my people’s progress. So be it. More compelling is the advent of botched design […]

  • When We’ve Transformed It, Within

    Hallowing. Hallowing won’t suffice in this covenant Abraham’s negotiations wore out. A yellow-throated vireo in the branches of a crabtree, still stark in early April, warbles, flits. The surging season uplifts him, mateless yet but en route to the nest, northward. Inner heavens beckon him. I mean us. The silent companion you hallow, you court, […]

  • Tube Rose

    A sleep walker I have often seen. She smelt of tube-rose, and sang…             — Erasmus Darwin, Loves of the Plants Tuberose’s bit of blue odor folded in cobalt crepe. Sweet clusters at the tip. Bitter’s troughed tongue slopes throatward. Bitter V             convulse, convolute. Sweet, light, bitter, heavy. As hefted. Faster than the speed of language. […]

  • A Song of Degrees (The Union of the Tablets)

    This is a song of approach. Relation. Radiation. This is a song of ascent. Nascence. Decryption. In the beginning of days X set a shard of glass to her lips. Cusp & mirror > interior space exfoliates Equations for debt structure // set out // new scales // registers for heat & loss.      Then the […]

  • Homecoming

    The work began with cedar, ash, and pine. In cold months, the architecture rose on Utah timber, plumb as an axe could find. Eventually, come spring, the windows shone. The house stands abandoned now. In time, the clapboard, screens, and porch decompose to a bleak mark — a wreck on the tree line. So ruination […]