Browse Sections

June 1954

I was conceived / in a shack by the sea, / its shingles bleached / and beaten nickel gray. / There were waves that day / washing over the foundations / of the old saltworks.

Dream Of The Common Life

I have had the most wonderful dream. / My neighbor is playing a flute in the back yard. / I don’t even like my neighbor. / You wouldn’t either if you knew him.

Ending It All

i called my brother a fag / and he ended it all / at fifteen he was peeled from the shiny red snow / fully nude / with his dick in his hand

Stripping

Strip off the shoes and pantyhose, / the grown-up drag. Undo / those soft white arms and their blond down, / moss made of light. / Wash away the sour working sweat, / fatigue of heels and fluorescent lights.

The Can Of Paint

Kathy opened the front door one Tuesday morning dressed in dirty rags and holding a little aluminum paint can in her arms. “From the moment she stepped inside the shelter, she mystified us,” one woman says. “Whatever she did, wherever she went, the little paint can never left her hands.”

Mother To Child

Laughing to confound me. / Laughing when I cut my finger, / bang my head. / Laughing when I’m angry. / You are too much like me. / You are too close.

One True Life

Walking to the neighborhood store, / my small, beautiful dog / straining at his red leash, and I / in my big winter jacket / against an April freeze and this / light battering of rain — / a young man approaches us, can / of beer and a Lotto / ticket in his hand.

Heaven

Selected Poems

Lake Temescal