POEMS
- THINGS YOU SHOULD KNOW /3
- THE INFINITE CONVERSATION
- THE ISLAND WITHIN
- MEASURING WINTER /z
- ORPHEUS CUT OUT AND SINGING
- THINGS YOU SHOULD KNOW
- LIGHT INTO TUESDAY
- YELLOW
- LOVE WAS AN AMPUTATION WITH TOO MANY PHANTOM LIMBS
- iterations of summer /24 [september]
- THE MUSIC OF LOSS
- MOURNING
- ANGEL OF POETRY
- ANGEL OF POETRY | onyx feathers
- /2 [from] iterations of summer [june]
- i•Phone *möbius strip* {hybrID.(b*oo*k)}: in*tro
- SWEEPING/SLEEPING AGAIN
- ITERATIONS OF SUMMER /4
- ITERATIONS OF SUMMER /6
- ITERATIONS OF SUMMER /8
- ITERATIONS OF SUMMER /10
- ITERATIONS OF SUMMER /15
- PAINTING THE DUST
- THE BLUE PAGE OF SEA
- THE HOURS
- ICE FISHING
- JANUARY RAIN
- HOUSE OF FORGETTING
- LAYERS
- AFFIRMATIONS [1] and [2]
- LONGING
- FLESHED
- THE SEESAW OF UNDERTOW
- NOTES TOWARD
- CHOICE[S]
- FROM THE GROUND
THE GLASS HOUSE OF FORGETTING (NOVEL)
- The Book of Forgetting (novel preface)
- The Opener of Letters, or Broken Tern (Gabriela)
- The Cellist Dreams in E Minor
- MANHOOD (ETHAN):
- “The Chasm of Infinitude” [The Glass House of Forgetting]
- from “The Sea of Hands” [The Glass House of Forgetting]
- From “Triangle” (Will, Jamie, and Sean)
- RUNNING (Ethan)
Category Archives: General
burial with rain
[13 dancers] .this morning, the song sparrow’s missing head.. .a delicacy for the coyote’s mouth.. .faded teal feathers hidden by dusty brown crinoline—taken, too.. .you said, let’s drive diagonally through crisscrossed streets.. .toward colors painting the sky-fall twilight— a necessary … Continue reading
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from FLESH: performance art for 13 dancers |unfinished burial
[13 dancers] .the singing sparrow, pregnant belly down, done for singing.. .the husband watching the nest he built out of habit.. .she wasn’t an omen, we wanted to convince ourselves.. .one of us said, we should bury her.. .another said, … Continue reading
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from FLESH: april solambulism
.you shouldn’t read the process notes.. .that was before this doorway.. .pain knew itself but couldn’t abscond affirmations. .no one genuflected properly.. .the singing didn’t have particles.. .the house peeling while we slept staggering.. .the violins moved [things—maybe us] horizontally.. … Continue reading
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.persian square dancing..
[4 dancers, antigone, dora, pluto, wind] .let’s blow this place open.. .let’s sharpen all our charcoal pencils.. .love isn’t your tattoo.. .one of us said, the alphabet soup is getting cold.. .no one here speaks persian.. .the day has gone … Continue reading
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.ii. | .persian duet. [from FLESH: performance art for 13 dancers]
[2 dancers: dora & pluto] .tell the blue birds and catbird that food assistance won’t compensate a new apple tree.. (.it wasn’t your fault..) .the white and pink butterfly bushes and heliotrope— for the swallowtails and monarchs.. .maybe: leave your … Continue reading
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FLESH: performance art for 13 dancers | prolegomenon
[13 dancers: antigone, dora, elizabeth, hafiz, henry, jackson, lily, pluto, question, sam, thom, wind, zebra] prolegomenon * .no more a tradesman of suitcases, you’re tracking pages with bone chips in velvet emerald satchels over your shoulder (dislocated by moonlight).. * … Continue reading
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SEMICOLONS
The garden, a micro-wasteland: cracked ceramic and glass; peat moss gone amok with ice, tangle, and quandary. Mourning doves thread dirges into blackbird noise; the blue jay cry, a semicolon. Let’s pretend to be yellow, he said—the yellow of daffodils; … Continue reading
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confessions of a con-ARTist
It’s true. I’m a con-Artist. I can’t pinpoint on the calendar the day–or on the wind-up clock, the hour this new identity coalesced, grew into its genetic paws. Strangely, I’m not one iota ashamed. I daresay I might be off-the-chart … Continue reading
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DIRGE VI, what was lost [13 dancers]
Unhinged from the ceiling, the gray moth was wind-scatter by Tuesday—then nothing left. Not even a frame for a sentence-shed. Last winter’s bicycle spokes catch a hand. Everyone in a hurry to take the remote—until then. Orphic chords scrambled us … Continue reading
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the spine is now a backwards S:
sinuous, serpentine, spongy, soggy, drowning under water, not serendipitous, not a sinecure with a quick fix, not erect at my unstrung cello, not perpendicular at the untuned piano’s yellowing keys the cat walks across at night emboldened with the power … Continue reading
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