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In the Valley with my Grandfather

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Traditions, customs and religious beliefs were preciously preserved.

BLT

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I had a sister-in-law who was a licensed nutritionist. Not sure what “licensed” means, but she had some certificate and worked in a hospital. Hospitals! Places not known for their cuisine, much less their nutrition. —So, what do you…

Flurry

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If I had slept a little longer, I/ would not have seen this rarity at all.

Out the Window

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she lifted and threw her legs out the open side front window of the speeding auto

Happy Valentine's Day From Your Librarian

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Is every librarian a poet at heart? I don't know, but a group of librarians recently put their heads together and came up with these library-themed Valentine's Day poems: Roses are red Your book's overdue You've had it for months Which is…

Self Portrait Without Colors

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I am the ritual/ banalities of days numbered,/ numberless, and numb.

I Don't Understand Poets

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I haven’t read many of them, these poets that they speak of – Whitman and his Leaves Of Grass, Mary Oliver and her wild life

Dingo-Yodel-Ay-Eee-Ooo

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Loosely based on a true story.

the wall

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Looking at an image of a graffiti on a wall on our computer screen we ask ourselves: what is the image's main graffiti-like property? We might answer: its location. But that is a contextual and political interpretation. There's nothing in that answer which addresses the…

What in Hell is Green Cheese Anyway?

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Damn tune's earworming me this morning

CBGB

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Lou Reed was sitting in CBGB, I was sitting on Greenwich Ave. and West 10th street. I didn't know him then and I didn't know him later either, but we were both there.

Son of a Bitch

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In February

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the Bay is still frothy and angry

Precisely

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Is it my imagination, or is her chair afraid of her?

Barrier Island

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At the beach house

Let’s Swing

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You don’t want to tango with me, she said.

Born of Flight

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I can walk among words, Scatter them like birds, to compose two thirds of a poem, when they settle on nearby wires, in an order inspiring wonder. What do they think, when I scatter them asunder. Bring them disarray, Shape them to a…

Old Church Slavonic

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Because it seems never to be beginning, always picking up in the middle with it’s long resonant tones, which themselves begin as if they’ve always been. Maybe that’s why we love old, sacred music. And by we I, of course, mean my two-year-old Charlie and m

Kitchen Fruit Fly Suicides

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How the hell do these 1/8 inch long red-eyed flying insects wind up in my kitchen anyway?

True Stories About Dancers

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The world is a mighty funny place. It spins wildly and we are held down by its strong ghostly gravity. We're still able to communicate with one another over morning coffee and delicious cake donuts dipped in chocolate. Some of us used to keep…

the cold envies whom?

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cold plunges its lethal chill spade/into the dirt before cold takes the earth/to ossify it stiff with ice/the semblance of cold the semblance of death/said only to be felt this side of the grave.

Fourth Love Poem and Fourth Song of Despair

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From Thirteen Love Poems and Twelve Songs of Despair, poems from a feminist in love with a man in a forbiddingly patriarchal world. Also part of my 2018 poetry collection Xanthippe and Her Friends

Visitation

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We sat up in bed. It's ‪two o'clock‬ in the morning. Blinding circular flashlight beams probe through the half pulled shades. Magnified black silhouettes of men's torsos lumber back and forth in the yard. We are in a fishbowl and being invaded.

#likerain

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This is your mystery, your story Full of beauty and all-encompassing loveA brushstroke washes the canvas cleanYou start over with a new directionDreaming of me as you paint your wordsWriting just like Keats, Shelley and BrontëAbout sorrow, rain and the wheels of…

ruination rumination

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a ruminating marsupial? if so,/ I guess I’d be a kangaroo, the cud soured/ and pasted to the tongue . . .

The Dork Shoe

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A strange man tapped my door and held up the shoes for me to see. “It is the Dork Shoe,” he said. I looked past him at his dusty station wagon filled with boxes. “I have your size right here.” I observed the halo of his gray hair as he…

Future Children As Rocks

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I feel like I should tell you things about strength.

Abandonment and Abundance

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I’m living at the Edge of Graffiti And yet I still survive Because I walked across the line Separating me from the rest of mankind You can see me out here I’m in so much pain All that’s written on my face I think it’s pretty plain

Some Water

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If it all just doesn't matter, it still matters to me. I get the tired, hungry sentiment. But I still care, that's all I'm saying, if you are a hurt being who for some reason needs me to care. Here, let's give them what they really want: the…

Remembering Daffodils

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the burning thrusts/ of yellow in defiance of the frost