I met you cast away in a giant city where people pass by and disappear inside its oceanic yowl. It was miraculous how new words burst from my desert mouth. I put them in a bottle without promises,  …

It’s like Jesse was never here at all, he’s been so long gone, like a gunshot that leaves no print— no motive, modus operandi, no finger-trace behind, no black.  So many through the crust via …

The ghosts of men who named the river / suckle moon-limned mist slipping down / from thick firefly-flickering treelines...

Stand on the sidewalk            with a cup of warm soup, curry, the color of wheat in late August, and let yourself be seen. It’s the currency            of the street. Wear …

No members, no elements to speak of.                                                             With nothing left to say, she resides in the white …

It would take jack-hammers  to find that other-self. Saw-shrieks,  elegies for taste—whiplash,  moan & scald. This body  is something Giacometti  sculpted: wax & molten steel,  the …

In the heat of chance, in the cold sweetness of rules, my son slaps out rhythm. Rock Paper Scissors. Does the hand quicken the mind?  He is a mystic, a prisoner gambling for bread. His rock …

1. … Zhenya moves as if her left side were heavier than her right. She leans like an old village fence, almost kissing the ground, and a shred of green cloth, scudded by the wind around the …