Finding things lost
I no longer trust myself having searched all morning for the missing piece in our endless jigsaw and come up …
I no longer trust myself having searched all morning for the missing piece in our endless jigsaw and come up …
Stones are easy to stack when they have been split and sanded. The challenge is to balance uneven ones, those …
Label everything. Your scent will not do. Your good grades will not do. Use only indelible ink. Label it with …
It is as I come down this morning and remember having tried to put away five pounds of Idaho potatoes …
where we deposit all sins of excess, failed solutions, self-lies to find their next hatching. You absorb each one without …
The Bustle in his Bedroom The Weekend after Drop-off Is loneliest of industries Enacted by the Mother — The Sweeping …
The bottom line is that you should be afraid of poetry,
coming as it does when you least expect it
and asking so much, as if it knows you well enough to do that.
i.
The cup I hold is
three quarters full;
The poet is a beggar: the month’s now been run;
All is, well, . . . ended, when tomorrow is done.
That you express content (or do not oth’wise say)
Thank you for emailing
at nine thirty-four last night
with seven exclamation marks.
And thank you