-
June 1, 2017 |
in Poetry |
admininfin8 |
0
I flinch from the sparks. Everything is blurs and ashes. Once in a while, a cloud separates and breaks from the herd crowding the sky above me. This lets a star, like a brilliant mistake,...
-
May 31, 2017 |
in Poetry |
admininfin8 |
0
If you care, it’s a lot easier than you hear. All you need to know is Still Point. Find the Still Point in every breath. Then exhale on Still and inhale on Point. Still Point Still Point...
-
May 31, 2017 |
in Poetry |
admininfin8 |
0
After the lions, by the tattered aviary, we can’t help but try it — peering up and sneering at the unapproachable sky like clipped birds of prey, hopping left, then right,...
-
May 30, 2017 |
in Poetry |
admininfin8 |
0
Running sprinting antelope twisting avoiding lion turning breathing moving eyes forward around trees over stream antelope tires lion leaps claws dig bite— preyneck toothfulfillment ...
-
March 27, 2017 |
in Poetry |
admininfin8 |
0
He’s inside the clock in the airport. Only the hour hand is painted in. The man dips his brush in the paint can and traces a long black line, uniting the center of the clock with the...
-
January 16, 2017 |
in Poetry |
admininfin8 |
0
In the courtyard of a temple where an ancient tree blooms an old woman is waiting to greet you. She locks her fingers. You step into her hands. Lengthen your body. Your feet on her...
-
January 16, 2017 |
in Poetry |
admininfin8 |
0
If Life Is As Short As Our Ancestors Insist It Is, Why Isn’t Everything I Want Already At My Feet if I make it to heaven, I will ask for all of the small pleasures I could have had on...
-
January 16, 2017 |
in Poetry |
admininfin8 |
0
Virtually, every Sunday, we gather just the three of us: me, my sister, the upper-right quadrant of our mother’s face. It’s nearly impossible to take a disembodied forehead, seriously,...
-
January 10, 2017 |
in Poetry |
admininfin8 |
0
You ask me why I did not pin a star beside this city or that, & my maps are gathered in graphite & not ink. Perhaps I did, & did not care to rebuild that city just yet...
-
January 9, 2017 |
in Poetry |
admininfin8 |
0
She mourns the soft, upturned earth of her own body; the failed harvest hangs in her stomach like a sickness, the grave of the Unknown Soldier hidden under her own skin, her skin a thin...
-
October 25, 2016 |
in Poetry |
admininfin8 |
0
In the presence of heat, the air palpable as breath, in there the heart races, the thing is waiting, a kind of skin trembling waiting for something to come on me, a thing that...
-
October 24, 2016 |
in Poetry |
admininfin8 |
0
She was mid-sentence. Mid-bloom. Her youngest voice emerged—a mustard seed shoved deep in her throat—when the arrow shot straight through her eye. The audience finally heard her. Our...
-
October 23, 2016 |
in Poetry |
admininfin8 |
0
After unpinning me from the wall, head, heart, knees, feet, The left behind nail holes make a constellation of me. Under whose sky I walk out. Buzzards with their cogged wing tips gear...
-
October 1, 2016 |
in Poetry |
admininfin8 |
0
baby / if you were to shoot / and I left behind me a 392-foot-long trail of blood / a wedding train / a slug’s...
-
September 12, 2016 |
in Poetry |
admininfin8 |
0
on a beach in france a veiled woman is in keeping with the law stripped & expected to say thank you for freeing me the photograph ...