Notes from Paradise
No matter how slowly we ride our bicycles,
we arrive an hour before the birds.
Rain is nothing compared to your body
pissing and counting...
Derelict
The diseased oak, its stoic body
an imperative don’t look at me,
is hoisted by a crane for the gathering crowd.
The cumbersome figure slung in the...
House and Home
“Nature is a haunted House. Art is house that wants to be haunted.”—Emily Dickinson
My home beckons the loss and awkwardness
where I’ve left...
