Cast to the corner like punished women, or girls relieved to be dismissed for now for five days for less for more for body’s unholy action through no willed action, far from Book, Verses left untouched, God’s Pages unsullied with our fingers unstained—...

What about the dew- sodden morning, eyes open to the already turning earth? Or batter blinking in the pan? Because today we have nowhere to be. These movements are true. They’re made by hands toward a deer in the whistle grass.

Whitman heard the “bustle of growing wheat” [I believe him] as he loafed in the grass in Camden, one ear to the earth enormous with corpses and vascular tissue, hairy roots of cabbages, horseshit enriching the Great Experiment – the other ear heard the...

My guide and I first purified before the sacrifice, but can you be purified I asked her without being eliminated or erased? My guide said it’s always but with you, why can’t you just archive the whiteness or curate the liquidity of the city and play yo...

Nettles could replace the cabbage, the salt and saffron milk-caps halved and cut with stock, water, proportions intuited and spun wetly over flame. My infant grandmother satcheled to the left hip, warmed into consuming sleep while soup thickens kitchen...

A softer sound than the crude x-ray chirp of a sparrow or blue-bellied finch. Violet crowned, I can never not hunger for things less tethered to earth. It is through speed and lightness that time slows. Beyond that red-billed rhythm,

If I told you bagging groceries to pay for community college tuition and a gym membership made me feel some kind of glamorous it would be mostly honest and mostly, as I was then, ignorant of any real responsibility outside of anthropology text books an...

In winter, she comes to visit. Following me around the house, asking questions with your mouth. She rests your chin on my head. After I’ve said goodnight, she roots around for you, digging for lost Christmas ornaments, state fair plush toys,

after Jim Harrison There is a god of small thunder in my chest, pounding commandments: whiskey, birds, women, feed the strays. His appetite grows as I watch Manitou twins or breakers in Grand Traverse. He reminds me blood is still red without air and E...

First little reelings of knowing outer space is inner— bad sci-fi movie where humans are fleas, or motes of shadow in the amoeba’s eye(lessness).    I am fairly functional   for a spirit walking around in a body. I don’t listen to messages,