Advertisement

Poetry

A Dead, Divine Thing

i will always be more tomb than temple, i know. there are ghosts and gods reclining on the moth-eaten velvet of my tongue, tigers and thunders purring in my veins but—   if you keep praising the curl of my eyelashes, comparing them to flying eaves / and if you keep tending to my collarbones […]

Read

Identity

“Okay but what’s Sami?” Sometimes I take a breath, Make myself say the word Lapp— Then half the time they still don’t know. I’ve said it for nothing. Sometimes I find A way to say, in the far north. So they understand (but don’t care). Once I told a small child, “The reindeer people, sweetheart,” […]

Read

Mirrors

We step through mirrors and take you away. Don’t be afraid, it’s just business. Your soul or an eye, a lifetime or a night.   You’ll be washed of your old fragrances: the midnight trysts and false promises, the cash payments and casual heartbreaks.   The room where we’ll take you has a mirror. Peer […]

Listen   Read

Sibylline

. . . the word not even Vergil knew, who died with his work unfinished. —Ursula K. Le Guin, “Learning Latin in Old Age”   From his fever in Brundisium he visits like the wavering in bronze scratched grave-bound across its gods and heroes, the worried wick of a face still breathing light. Ceaseless as […]

Read

Tuesday, Late Commute

I met a woman on the platform, handbag pressed tight To her chest like it might protect her. She kept her distance, And I’m not one to converse uninvited with the damned, Even when we share a fate. “Long day,” she sighed first, And I replied, “Long day.” (Or was it the echo of a third […]

Read

Advertisement