… The hunter and the deer are in the woods.Right now no gunshots explode the quiet.Only the wind’s unafraid to riotin a few leaves, shaking the branches goodthe living skeletons of wintertime.I hear some crows as far away as … Continue reading

… The hunter and the deer are in the woods.Right now no gunshots explode the quiet.Only the wind’s unafraid to riotin a few leaves, shaking the branches goodthe living skeletons of wintertime.I hear some crows as far away as … Continue reading
…. Atlantic City, facade to the god Money on the edge of America where the sea and the air share a sky there before Christopher Columbus came, raped and pillaged the place. Lights, loud music and free drinks in all … Continue reading
228 A homeless woman with her legs spread on a park bench looks ready to shit. Good God she is pulling her pants down with paper towels about to do it. Vacationing anarchists are camped out by the water fountain. … Continue reading
92… To be understood words are objective yet we understand them subjectively. When Willa Cather writes, “The long main street began at the church, the town seemed to flow from it like a stream from a spring,” the prose forms … Continue reading
The poet and professor, Jamey Jones, asked me last summer if I would submit some poetry for publication in the magazine, Hurricane Review. It is always a task to decide on something, but finally I did, and Jamey kindly … Continue reading
Among my sonnets are eight that are about milkweed; I include them below for you to read whenever you have the time. Hope you enjoy. 86 As I put my nose in milkweed blossoms their resemblance to lilacs remindingme … Continue reading
On May 23, 2022, I read at KGB for the Monday Poetry Series curated by John Deming, Jada Gordon and Jason Schneiderman. I was reading with Kate Gale and went on first. When reading a poem or singing a song, … Continue reading
What I’m usually doing is deciding what to do now and what to do next. I have a list of tasks. This week, among a lot of stuff, I’ve been working on old poems and it’s boiled down to … Continue reading
a mouthsewnshut can stillmakeasound before you love anotherlook in a mirror until you don’t existthen smash the mirrordrink from your bleeding fist In the circleI’ve pressed my lips. If you press yours there … Continue reading
I like making things, and since my husband Akram’s drawings often fit my poems perfectly, I’ve made postcards out of them. In the time of an inundating Internet and a pandemic, postcards are something physical that a friend has … Continue reading
… My mother pulled the black snake from the bush. Long snake gone from fleeing to being held twined around her arm and opened its mouth but mother only laughed and let it twist. Her friends who had come to … Continue reading
… These three poems are from the Prologue which is from of a longer work called The Final Postures of a Dying Whore. This is where it all begins. Enjoy. … … … I write the word: I am behind … Continue reading