excerpt from Energeticum / Phantasticum: a Profane Epyllion in Seven Cantos ...The internet's perverse monstrosity, apocalyptic,...

Upstate The apes play hide and seek in the woods. Jenny complains bitterly, her morning walks ruined by cries of   “I see y...

from Pellucid Inferno High End Dirt The place had all the looks of Defeat, the faded Idols of the Marketplace having absconded to p...

MOAN MELODY                                     “ But I spin all these crazy yarns    as if sleeping in a mound of narrative”...

from Forms, migrating But “Everything but sleep.”                   —Li-Young Lee And night is the...

By its nature, the shadow is connection (more than it is internalization or intersection only): it literally joins with the feet wit...

Monday Morning The fishing line of desire too often hooks my eyes. My god the evidence in my car alone: her hair st...

Gradually the house across the way
 grew dimmer and brighter, appreciating the stars, 
as languidly dropped the words they would have it s...

A READING AT KGB In the room dark as a deserted dacha in winter I sat trying to listen to the featured poet droning on abou...

CIRCE Hair so damn good it eclipsed her face. Nor could the pigs keep up. It soon became clear nakedness had little to do with wherever they...