Poetry

I Was Kelp

I was kelp:
wet velvet
in warm water.
You were one wave
and another.

 

 

My Hungarian Mother

She didn’t let the ocean
touch her toes. Too foreign,
she said. I lie back,
I hear the soldiers’

Monday Morning

Elsewhere on the insubstantial
crust of North America,
some dogs are deep
in woeful conversation.

A couple of interns shush each other to listen
and a chill wind seems to blow.

They’ve been smoking in the open door
of the …

The Gate

*

If you’ve ever thought of a child, you are party
to the creation of a child. Digital cymbals
resembling applause alert the stadium crowd
when applause is necessary.

*

I’ve got burns to prove I’m human, that I am…

A Wilderness

Why go into it when just knowing that
it’s there without you makes it more itself?
And who are those who don their boots and packs
and make of it an emblem of their freedom?
Is it then less a …