Night of Telescopes

I have buried my share and hardly anyone knows.
A house must hold ghosts, writing
Names across funereal woods and windows
Good for viewing the lingering past.
This night of telescopes fixes the cold
October sky—a Saturn so delicate as if
Sketched by moths holding to nearby stones
For their lives. The sutures of the moon drift
Into sharpness and a man points to the inevitable screen
Another haunt in this dim garden where voices …

More In: Poetry

Ode to Your Hyper-Vigilance | Zocalo Public Square • Arizona State University • Smithsonian

Ode to Your Hyper-Vigilance

Hugging you’s hard enough when you’re awake,
but to worm my arm under your downed trunk,
plutonium-core sequoia, and hold on? Pft.
Not with electric jolts reanimating your limbs in

Wolf Package | Zocalo Public Square • Arizona State University • Smithsonian

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 …

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 …