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Writing poetry is a state of free float

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Here the children have a custom. After the celebration of evil they take those vacant heads that shone once with such anguish and glee and throw them ...more

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A truth should exist,it should not be usedlike this. If I love youis that a fact or a weapon?

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There is the staircase,there is the sun.There is the kitchen,the plate with toast and strawberry jam,your subterfuge,your ordinary mirage.You stand re...more

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You fit into melike a hook into an eyea fish hookan open eye

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UPYou wake up filled with dread.There seems no reason for it.Morning light sifts through the window,there is birdsong,you can't get out of bed.It's so...more

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Though I knew how this failure would hurt you, I had to fold like a grey moth and let go.You could not believe I was more than your echo.

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They were wrong about the sun.It does not go down into the underworld at night.The sun leaves merelyand the underworld emerges.It can happen at any mo...more

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from under the ground, from under the waters,they clutch at us, they clutch at us,we won’t let go.

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Where do the words gowhen we have said them?

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Then there's the twoof us. This wordis far too short for us, it has onlyfour letters, too sparseto fill those deep barevacuums between the starsthat p...more

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No wires tender even as nervescan transmit the impact ofour seasons, our catastropheswhile we are closed inside them

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If he had known unstructured space is a delugeand stocked his log house-boat with all the animals even the wolves, he might have floated. But obstinat...more

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SPRING POEMIt is spring, my decision, the earthferments like rising breador refuse, we are burninglast year's weeds, the smokeflares from the road, th...more

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Kill what you can't savewhat you can't eat throw outwhat you can't throw out buryWhat you can't bury give awaywhat you can't give away you must carry ...more