In Minneapolis, I recently attended an exhibit
which mourned American soldiers lost in Iraq.
One walk through was enough for me. The artist,
who wrote each dead individual’s name in cursive
on a scroll, makes a statement about the scale …
Genre: Poetry
An actual gun isn’t part of a man’s
covert junk the last time I checked,
around 2006 in Galveston, Texas.
I was in search of a Glen Campbell
look-alike, with a belt buckle so big
you could serve hors-d’oeuvres on …
Que Significa
I thought it’ d be cooler, here,
in late June, but all night I’m kicking off the sheets
and pulling them back over my body in the stillness
of my room, until I remember, suddenly,
those …
Poetry
Now vs. When Lilacs Last in the Dooryard Bloom’d; Assemble the Mockingbird; Disagreeable Aspects of Hyphenation; T. and I Compare the Dreamscape; & from Tonight, a Woman
Now vs. When Lilacs Last in the Dooryard Bloom’d
Tonight, my mother leaves a voicemail asking I work back-of-house when I can. I haven’t had a parent call afraid for my safety since 9/11.
Close to where …
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Poetry
Hans Christian Andersen Feared Being Buried Alive; My Dulcimer Teacher Joellen Works as a Psychotherapist; & The Copper Pillowcase
Hans Christian Andersen
Feared Being Buried Alive
I, too, Hans Christian,
once left a warning note. Your bedside
table’s scribble read, I only appear
to be dead—an effort to ward off
the would-be pallbearers
who ’d drop …
Lakota Grammar
I.
This is what the language teaches, waúnspemakhiye:
Do not be ashamed that you misunderstood possessives.
That you were not a thing to be taken and torn, but a verb:
Winyan, “I am a woman.”
Poetry
R U ok?! (8/3/2019); Industrial Sign Language (You at the Textile Museum); You & Louise Bourgeois’s The Fragile; & You Were an Asshole
R U ok?! (8/3/2019)
Checking in. Let me know you’re not anywhere near Cielo Vista Mall, please. Active shooter in the area. Just heard about the shooting in El Paso. You guys all ok? I just read there was …
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Brigadista in Retirement
Every nation teaches itself the myths
of its survival. Fantasy, harnessed,
feeds the impulse to die for la patria,
and then the war is over. In the after-
glow of dizzying celebration, a purpling
sky
[an excerpt from Spectra]
To speak without vulnerability you claimed
impossible
the land’s fragrance its honey its plants
translation I wanted to be back in my language
“back”? /
I wanted to differently be in
another word for being…
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