Ode In This Condition ||| Boston Review

Praise for this wending, this bearing beginning. The least stuck is groaning, the most has given in. Words a rotted barn, full of must and straw and animals sleeping. I want to dream with you the mountainsides, the beaches, the … Continued

Discountry ||| Radar

A wooded, bloodied word, a dozing black daisy. Into you out of my head how many times, out of air and earthward, bird with no throat, bird unopened. Unencumbered of my desire, your arms free of the frozen stream. To … Continued

Ante Matter ||| Drunken Boat

Pretty good work if you can get it, making paradises in abandoned banks stony exterior, marble interior, the registers like a failed carillon (toneless) striking all hours at all hours. Every noon the ghost attendants ghost-walk up to the kiosk, … Continued

Of Mule and Deer ||| Boston Review

Out of a tin-cold, murmuring black wood Lightly you lope, pale deer, lifting A story from pages of snow Nothing turns in your eye they say Toward the tin-cold and murmuring black wood I bear a display case of blue … Continued

Separate State ||| The Diagram

The family two docks down, their chatter straining over the talk radio blaring, in-laws, who never had kids, warning relative’s kids, “Too close, kids.” Me on my dock thinking No kids, so that’s the reason the kids are too close, but no breaks. The in-laws: “Stop it. Stop horsing around.” “Oh, go ahead, fall … Continued

Cherries ||| Orion Magazine

In the minute it took to fetch the blue bowl from the kitchen to pick the just-ripe cherries, the blackbirds had come. They picked the branches clean, ascending into their own blue bowl. Lacking wings, I look for meaning. We … Continued

There Will Be No More Daughters

No nail to spark the fires, no waists to nip in. There will not be cookery or starguide, no petite or hardiness in lace, hardly an elegance. No celebrities for the TV. No dogeared books on floral arrangement or patched … Continued

“And Then What America, And Then What?”

—MILTON KESSLER What if California wasn’t the end of possibility? Gleaming out past Alcatraz and Coronado— someplace real to reach, if only you could walk across the water.   Forget Manifest Destiny. What is ever manifest? What is destined? Today … Continued

The Mirror

Translated from Spanish by Jesse Lee Kercheval Leave leave me to do it she says and when she leans down when she goes to drown her face gently in the coarse hair in the dark marbled tangle over skin so … Continued