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Nothing Here is Enough

I need veiled eyelids, black lines, and ruined puppets to make geography. I need a sky wider than longing, and water that is not H2O to make wings. More

Pronouns

He plays a train. She plays a whistle. They move away. He plays a rope. She plays a tree. They swing. More

When I Was a Man

When I was a man I lived in San Cristóbal. At the top of the mountains in the south, along the border of Guatemala, in a place where they… More

The War Works Hard

How magnificent the war is! How eager and efficient! Early in the morning it wakes up the sirens and dispatches ambulances to various places swings corpses through the air rolls stretchers to the wounded summons rain from the eyes… More

Greeting, Slippage, and Shaping

As someone specifically interested in the translation of poetry, of the free verse variety, I will come down squarely on the side of occasional long shots, slippages into the… More

Recumbents

Cardiogram (May)The Seine was green by your armFurther than the Mirabeau bridge beneaththe hills like a breathingThe suburbs praised usI would have wanted I would haveso needed you to… More

The Gifts

Today I put on / a hot red blood / today people love me / a woman smiled at me / a girl gave me a shell / a… More

Acrobat

AcrobatBetween word and thinga leap over nothing.Around the wordthe myriad layers of dreams.An onion. An atom.A ravenous onion.Between one layer and anothernothing.The layers leap over the void,take the hollows by… More