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Inspired by “The Cape.” In the wind of the beach, I climbed into the gorilla.  Its skin hung down like an immense human cape.                –Ben Crowley The Ape  My father always knocked on my door. ‘Perchance, the ape is in?’ He opened my door and helped me into theContinue Reading

On:

the symphony of bugs buzzing around our brightbodies. the spray acrid as gasoline over our arms,legs, torsos, faces scrunched like zipper spokes. the wind hesitating before reaching to touchthe leaves, our hair sticky with sweat beinglifted briefly before settling again. a reflection telescope takes time to temperature adjust.nothing to doContinue Reading

On:

As a child, my favorite summertime souvenir wasNot seashells or sand crabs butThe tar that stuck to my salty feetLike a sailor’s tattoosAnd I’d dance upon the web-like shadow ofThe water treatment plantThat I mistook as part of the refineryIn hopes of staining myself permanently My efforts were no matchContinue Reading

On:

Mostly land and wind here.Barns, silos, woodframe housesfloat on a sea of plowed fields.It’s the last of winter,not quite spring. A storm’s blown in tonight,gusts slashing the house, crashingthe dead aspen onto the dairy shed roof.Thunder rattles the loose sashin the kitchen window.Lightning rips tears in the black sky-plain above.OutContinue Reading

On:

a found poem, after Giannina Braschi Madmen fear no moon, fear no fire. Burns of flesh are poetry. Madmen’s wounds are poetry. Salt is for fish, salt is for death, the poem is not among the dead. Remember, but don’t write it. sleepwalker among cats, thief among dogs, man amongContinue Reading