Fill in the blank: Poetry is ____________ From Poetry 205 Fall 2017 to Poetry 205 Spring 2019. This poem was compiled from students’ responses to the above equation. What is Poetry? I. a baby’s first tears, wrapped in the arms of a mother with fears a cigarette bowing to the flame and a vision upon […]

30/30 Day 1

March 1st. Join me and seven other poets who will be writing 30 poems in 30 days. Here’s the link. Check back tomorrow for Friday’s posts. 30/30 Project Thank you to all our supporters. Click to sponsor me   

One poem a day . . . for 30 days

I’m excited to be part of Tupelo Press’s 30/30 project. I will be joining 173 poets who committed to this daily practice of shaping words on the page. It’s not as easy as it sounds. I look forward to pushing myself. I start March 1st. If you write or read or just want to try […]

New Year’s Eve

  truant clocks shapeshift like lamppost bulbs—following time’s ascent: evening

Stone Harbor

Stone Harbor rocks: amalgam of minerals condensed space, boulders of infinity and pebble-like acuteness temple builders misbehaving polygons companion of trees; envious of light eaters, their spiraling wood centers and the green perplexity of veins the philosopher’s hourglass kinesthetic anchors between the sphere’s smooth, unfinished edges and the jagged catastrophe of no ending havens of […]

Atoms for Peace

five +/- (6) “Atoms for Peace” graffiti seen at the Café Mondrian on the Boulevard Saint-Germaine, etched on a coppery bathroom ornament, some kind of announcement for all the little deities who have survived the smashing and orbited back to the void. The Absinthe Drinker, Edouard Manet   Atoms for Peace

Heads or Tales

5 lines, day 5   I pledge to read each day’s oncoming slaughter as a penniless dark spur opening beneath a cataclysm of daisies

Iron Skillet

  Five lines (+/-), day 4.   Iron skillet You school me with your trochees and well-oiled forgery seasoned with elbow grease so that nothing not the overnighting left overs not the knife marks not the hunger stay for long, the most anyone could ask from fire.  

Lines Composed . . . (Five lines, day 3)

Lines Composed after the Lasagna Dough Has Been Made I get it now—elasticity— the tug and curl of edges against arms and flat surfaces. Forcing the matter. The staying. The giving.

Five lines (day two)

elliptical shifts bequeath February with truant light; shape shifter skies— like lamppost bulbs—following the timed ascent to evening