Who Takes This Desert Home?

Shadows stick into the horizon
like thorns of flame.
I am a magician,
angels on my right
illusions on my left.
On my shoulders, sands that lost their way
and in my head a whirlpool pervades oblivion.
Armies chase me
and there is no refuge
except for the cloak of God.
The desert unrolls
from mind to mind
where hope
in the old stone
stirs up death
for a song that never dies.
This is my phantom strewn about water.
This is my sun rolling down on the dunes.

My Story

My story
is the story
of a hoe wearing thin
of a factory becoming a ruin
of a road falling out of repair

my story
is the story
of stone
turning …


Listen to Thomas McGuire’s introduction and recitation of the poem in Dutch.


The gloaming falls like ground.
In Holland lopes a hound.
A hound with yellow teeth.
He roves throughout the …


All animals were once human, but then
they sinned—
and God flooded our Earth
and Noah smuggled all those former humans in pairs. Each of them
was wicked, deceitful. And …


you speak to a mountain
by becoming
it your body in her
language of minerals
a whisper a humming
bird’s fluttering wings
since I became
a mother nearly a decade

How We Teach Them

in a café I watch a boy
maybe five years old

hit his sister again and again
till his mom gives him a phone

on which to watch videos of boys
shooting …