Wolf Package

In the airless, fluorescent lung of a department store,
I am trying not to laugh at the wolf’s face
printed across the crotch of a pair of boxer briefs.

I nearly buy them, but decide I’m not ready to
forget the joke. For how, out of necessity, they’d fall
eventually into regular rotation, become my wolf

underwear, that’s all. I’d wear them sometimes, surely
disremembering, out into the world, shaking
hands, holding doors, being a good boy. …

More In: Chronicles

EVEN THE LAND IS TIRED | Zocalo Public Square • Arizona State University • Smithsonian

EVEN THE LAND IS TIRED

I woke to rain
and wondered if that meant
the sky was trying

to be a prayer. Teary-eyed
and drooping are the clouds
inside my voice.

No one ever taught
water …

Dog Song | Zocalo Public Square • Arizona State University • Smithsonian

Dog Song

Make me write like a dog
gnawing a bone. Not anger,

but that animation, that knowing
focus and breath. The just as easy

letting go,
down into the dirt,

what …

Channel Surfing | Zocalo Public Square • Arizona State University • Smithsonian

Channel Surfing

after Forrest Gander’s ‘Deadout’

I.

Procure his bone-dry clay & burnish,
synchronous glide and precision.

Red Eared Slider stares beyond aquarium rim,
four feet shy of two from shell to carpet.

Aspen drum, synesthesia’s sunflower.
What are …

Measured Form | Zocalo Public Square • Arizona State University • Smithsonian

Measured Form

The children have left the red ball
disintegrating in the backyard.
Half-gone, it’s a dimpled dome

for dead grass, brittle and yellow—
Even the cows would pass if it were …

Ars poetica | Zocalo Public Square • Arizona State University • Smithsonian

Ars poetica

& the trees gleam wetly under the luminous clouds

& through a water-ribboned window a child draws pictures

& the child draws the man as a winter tree with the moon above

& …