It can be done with obsidian, / or a necklace, or a shard / of mirror. / Nostradamus used water / in a bronze bowl. / I tried it once with a wine glass / under the piano. / It’s not about crystal, …

Martha tried to get a hold of Frank. / She sent a carrier pigeon / with a carrier pigeon attached to it / so he could send a reply. / But her fear now / is that this new carrier pigeon team / might …

I have a long history/ of underreacting. / Of / overreacting. / My / sacred identities. / I make / Kendrick Lamar memes / with pictures of my daughter / wearing water wings. / I have trouble / …

Sometimes, / it’s as dull / as it should be. / I iron / little clothes. / We’re not / here for very long.

The capacity / for two lives. / The inability / to choose. / When a myth / induces faith, / death—life’s safety— / is removed. / A wild gift / in a / tidy package. / The boner spam / I get at …

I don’t / really get / the survival instinct. / In / finite things, in / infinite things. / Being spoiled / is evidence / of over-evolution. / The death / wish. / The grief / economy. / Strategic / …

"I am thinking that a poem could go on forever." —Jack Spicer Tell me the story of the night I was born. Mother's palm on her laboring back, shopping for china. This is an origin story, like the …

I inhabit the forest of my belly like an endangered and spotted owl. I hop into a stream, never the same one. I build a fire from the aphorisms from the cherry tree that grows from the loam of it...

I think when I die I want my tombstone to say, / This guy noticed things and took enormous pleasure / in the noticing.

It was a relatively inexpensive truck, and suburban parents could both afford it (or payments on it) and teens, if they were paying for the gas from their allowance, could afford the gas...

Doing daily shit while waiting / to swing the axe. To sing a lullaby / about doing dishtowels while looking atrocious. To cinch the lariat / around the vocal apparatus / while doing nothing but …

Two thousand miles away from here, my dad / is lying in a strange room, being tended to. / It is always getting later. No matter / if it's morning dampening the earth, / or burnt orange evening …

The house trailers squat opulent as a loaf of bread. / It is 1940, no lines of men, their hands extended. / No chalked outlines on pavement, crumpled / double-breasted suits, pinstriped lapels still …

Now it is time for the brief history / of the day my uncle's turkey shed burned down. / I remember walking through the wet / debris after the fire, corrugated metal and scorched carcasses, and …

Let's take a Vespa to the beach; let's / not get killed. Our lives are mirrors, adjust your mirrors, / let's not get / killed. The sun goes over a cliff, / head over heels. We motor away, switch / …

They call it a nuclear missile. / The great equalizer. A man dropped a bomb so big he could never / forget. This is how families begin: one accident leads to the next and suddenly you're / giving …

The death of my grandfather / leaves money / and a company / for the children to scrabble over. There are those who never escape / the molasses. Perhaps it's best he not die. So many things / I want …

I look like you make me shiver. / Your mind is a radio. / If this is paradise, I wish I had / your face. Facts continue to change / your mind. Is a radio / a cigarette, burning / your face? Facts …

some grainy needle / pokes a woman with a black cat / that becomes permanent / like this is also your body and it is just perfect / that is how i see it / then there are rains that wash the mountain. …

Imagine that some gift has been bestowed upon me, some crisis or illness / The Garden we enter is easy / You lay there and the names of pop lie with you / A race disappears / But save that for later …