The Cannon on the River
By Poetry Issue 126
It’s only a blast of gunpowder that loves
to say its own last name
Archaic Torso of Apollo
By Poetry Issue 126
Love is
a dying into only.
Two Soilmass Haibun
By Poetry Issue 126
The recordings of jazz pianists are revised by a magnetic field.
Read MoreCarrying the Bones
By Poetry Issue 126
I carry the bones
of everyone I have loved, even a little,
and of every forebear atop my head.
Into This Dark Forest You Have Already Turned (II)
By Poetry Issue 126
The luckiest can
be shown how
to walk through
fire en route
Into This Dark Forest You Have Already Turned
By Poetry Issue 126
a dream whose
herrings all run
in red weather
We May as Well Be at the Menil (VI)
By Poetry Issue 126
Purgatorio’s full of song.
Read MoreBoots
By Poetry Issue 126
“I must take them to the cobbler,
they’ve only got slightly
worn-down heels,”
A Song About Traction
By Poetry Issue 126
First you load requests into your devotions
like cargo into a railcar, the overburdened rolling stock
heaves toward the port of New Heaven so sluggishly
that half the goods pass their expiry date.
Little Psalm You Have Slept / Seething Pastoral
By Poetry Issue 126
