More on: poetry

It’s the taste of that first sip / of coffee, rich and strong, the Mr. Coffee cup warmer / on your desk. It’s having the right pen.

Good criticism also helps us see why some art doesn’t work, or works poorly, activating the worst in us. When criticism is judgmental in the sense of being censorious, that too is in the service of art and our experience. The critic is showing us why we need and deserve better.

a dream that repeated: to find the good / you must uproot the pain

I came to see the ark in this space as a kind of well at the heart of an imaginary landscape, the symbolic source of life. This metaphoric landscape is a constant reminder of the longing for the physical Holy Land.

My mother used to tell me to talk without using my hands…. People will think you’re something you’re not, she said.

I want to know the names / of those who make reservoirs / of their own bodies.

But, if you didn’t notice, there is the cross: / the cross that includes everything as it / excludes nothing

Like you, I’m on a journey, though where I’m going / changes with each moment.

A poem for lost love. “If I wash myself / where will you go?”

To think—I thought it cute, / the doctrine that the oak trees sculpt / the air and water