Most Read Pieces
Currywood. Running. Noon. Bright.
Around the apricots. Damascos. That’s Spanish for. / The breeze. Hissing in my. Where did my breath. / I need it back. I’m running. The water....
Cecilia, or: most of what happens in a …
Cecilia and everything undone. / Inadequate and worldly. / Smiling and smiling and smiling / and thank you and everything else. / Their skin, their…
I Got Dressed This Morning For You
Birds, / seventeen / // red-crests / singing / // wear / the dress / // the one / you feel / // sleek in / like an eel / // a…
I will never regret the secrets I have kept. // Sometimes, though, they escape as a hiss. / // / The secrets I have kept belong to him as…
In September you were in the hospital again. / So I burned underbrush— / a blackberry thicket grown large / in our rented yard. / / I was…
I Loved Poetry
I. // But then there was the untreated depression. / But then there was the rampant alcoholism enabled for art’s sake. / But then there was the…
(a cento of last words) / / Now comes the mystery / I have no power / To move my arms / Applaud, my friends / / I have no power / The…
That’s Democratic Socialism
One can slide easy / into the gig economy, / / but there has got to be something / between being disposable / / Maybe that one shining…
© Ink Node, 2019