you draw winter near /
with gnathic aptitude /
the lockjaw of late autumn /
startled shut, rivers grow covers ...
When I think about dying, I think about worms, /
how their bodies churn dirt from decay. Comforting, /
Letter to Hannah from Vršovice
The city blooms early again. Pairs of girls /
pose by the cluster of magnolias at the tram stop, /
Sun circles our bodies on his way /
to kiss Moon—we eat fresh pickerel, /
brook trout, wide mouth ...
March Thaw with Dead Robin
little bird, when did you leave us? /
stepped-past, kicked-aside /
our home will have a basement , an /
attic & two floors pleated into an /
upper & a lower . we will weave ...
Blood Memory #4
there is a story and in the story he sits across the table /
writing the story about the problem in your bones — / ...
Once a couple of years ago, my partner’s kids /
gave me a card for mother’s day. This year /
they didn’t, caught ...
people continue disappearing /
into pinholes and the anchor /
on tv is vomiting tragedy /
after tragedy into ...
It’s Always Winter When Someone Dies
New snow /
Mother’s high heeled boots track /
a path to nowhere. /