Week 1/Day 4. Rose Red goes quantity surveying (a poem)

This is my fourth poem of the online retreat. It’s an interesting bit of kismet. Despite my childhood crush and her reddened cheeks, I fail to recognize her until she sits down at the other side of the table. She is almost formless— I can’t even tell you what she’s wearing. She carries a book [...]

Week 1/Day 3. born of Old Depression, she sleeps (a poem)

This is my third poem of the online retreat. temporal clarity as a pointed peak poking around morphine fog a picture painted in stochasm a misaligned screen through which ink no rose no glass oceans of atoms murky heavens in mushroom squelch neighboring metals rust silently the amusements of a young girl fold like irons [...]

Week 1/Day 2. Self-portrait, 2008 (a poem)

I’m participating in an online poetry retreat for the rest of the month. This is my second poem. The present: always a murky construct with its blurred edges and its unwillingness to play it straight How much can you hide from the camera? Who are you keeping yourself from? The past: a paragon of clarity [...]

The President of the United States of America visits Walter Reed National Military Medical Center (a poem)

I know what my mom would say. I'll just say this. The emperor has traded in the clothes he does not have for a hospital gown The bluster with which he shields himself could not counteract the counterattack His accomplices wear their shock on their faces The mask he does not wear has failed to [...]