14/M/all my life, an islander.
woman takes you down to her place near the river; You can hear the boats go by, you can spend the night forever And you ...
M/Ant-hard-ica
she inquires why I write so many poems, easy comes reply: It gives me a fantastic living, it makes and gives, each poem, a calculation, ...
body suspended between the-dark ochre earth tones of night, teal pealing notes of warning of an impending morning, signs aborning, me rising with urgency of ...
tween the heart and NYC
only love poems and other complaints; “teach me where the apostrophe goes, the comma and why the question mark is curved and dotted like my ...
where we are
little could I imagine then that poetry would pick me at all, especially to write of words in dialects I don’t speak, but imaging their ...