Monday Poem

Little Miracles 3: A Quantum Angel Spinning-0ff Particles I call you Quantum Angel because you’re so unbelievable not even physicists can pin you down, the way you flit through atoms you must have wings, the way you punk time your wings must be turbocharged, the way you fling particles we can’t keep up— where do…

Sunday Poem

My Mother Worries About My Hat Every spring my mother says I should buy a straw hat so I won’t overheat in summer. . I always agree but the valley’s soon cold, and besides my old Borsalino is nearly rain-proof. . She’s at it again, it’s August, the grapes are sugaring. I say, Okay, and pluck…

Saturday Poem

As in Survival …as in waking up at four am to hit the road as in road trip time watching the day break through a window as in norton, chegutu, kadoma, gweru, bulawayo, figtree, plumtree as in the dry stretch of barrenness between gweru and bulawayo must be metaphorical… …as in dry riverbeds where water…

Friday Poem

The Clothes Shrine It was a whole new sweetness In the early days to find Light white muslin blouses On a see-through nylon line Drip-drying in the bathroom Or a nylon slip in the shine Of its own electricity- As if St. Brigid once more Had rigged up a ray of sun Like the one…

Thursday Poem

lucy and her girls lucy is the ocean extended by her girls are the river fed by lucy is the sun reflected through her girls are the moon lighted by lucy is the history of her girls are the place where lucy was going . Lucille Clifton from  Good Woman: poems and a memoir -1969-1980…

Wednesday Poem

From a Conversation-Hour Discussion About Intolerance with Adult English Students Then he explained how the Buddha instructed us to reflect on the body our skin our hands and feet our body hair our nails and teeth our noses our eyes our minds our hearts so that we can see ourselves clearly in every person no…

Sunday Poem

Heaven and Earth I hear a song as I step in I look but no one is singing Crows cool themselves under roof of the fountain Dogs compete to show their breeding Comfort lodges in the profiles of the people . Why is someone here who isn’t? I wonder if I’m just mistaken I wonder…

Friday Poem

The Latin Deli Presiding over a formica counter, plastic Mother and Child magnetized to the top of an ancient register, the heady mix of smells from the open bins of dried codfish, the green plantains hanging in stalks like votive offerings, she is the Patroness of Exiles, a woman of no-age who was never pretty,…

Wednesday Poem

Forgive me, distant wars, for bringing flowers home. …………… –Wisława Szymborska Why I Don’t Mention Flowers When Conversations with My Brother Reach Uncomfortable Silences In the Kashmir mountains, my brother shot many men, blew skulls from brown skins, dyed white desert sand crimson. What is there to say to a man who has traversed such…

Tuesday Poem

Violets Down by the rumbling creek and the tall trees— …. where I went truant from school three days a week …….. and therefore broke the record— there were violets as easy in their lives ….. as anything you have ever seen ……… or leaned down to intake the sweet breath of. Later, when the…

Monday Poem

Little Miracles 2: —Cloudmaker you, generator of clouds, are indispensable. you fling them up as if they were mere vapor your creativity is unsurpassed much like cloud yourself you may be dark or bright free and light or stretched like a cowl under stars, in daylight white grey saffron pink at night you draw curtains…

Sunday Poem

My Last Résumé When I was a troubadour When I was an astronaut When I was a pirate You should have seen my closet You would have loved my shoes. Kindly consider my application Even though your position is filled. This is my stash of snow globes This is my favorite whip This is a…

Friday Poem

On Calling the Cops It took us this long to slow our dying down to a languid and sensible pace wherein the sugar might claim each our limbs but never in one fell and vicious swoop how irony does when the voice you use to summon a state-hired cavalry is also the one used to…

Thursday Poem

This is Desire I am a novice. All alone with what I hope is just the right amount of reverence I am trying to coax calm to my side, trying to hollow out a place in my heart for it to turn around three times and lay down. I am a nest, I say, but…