Because the shad are swimming in our waters now, breaching the skin of the river with their

1. THE SACRIFICE On this tile the knife like a sickle-moon hangs in the painted air

When they taught me that what matt… was not the strict iambic line goo… over the page but the variations in that line and the tension produ… on the ear by the surprise of diff…

Perhaps the purpose of leaves is t… the verticality of trees which we… as if for the first time: row afte… yearning upwards. And since we wil… ourselves for so long, let us now…

We think of hidden in a white dres… among the folded linens and sachet… of well-kept cupboards, or just ou… sending jellies and notes with no… to all the wondering Amherst neigh…

When our cars touched When you lifted the hood of mine To see the intimate workings under… When we were bound together By a pulse of pure energy,

Some say it was a pear Eve ate. Why else the shape of the womb,

Finding a new poet is like finding a new wildflower out in the woods. You don’t see its name in the flower books, and nobody you tell believes

I am only leaving you for a handful of days but it feels as thought i will be gone forever the way the door closes

I sing a song of the croissant and of the wily French who trick themselves daily back to the world

What we want is never simple. We move among the things we thought we wanted: a face, a room, an open book

January Contorted by wind, mere armatures for ice or snow, the trees resolve to endure for now,

Into the gravity of my life, the serious ceremonies of polish and paper and pen, has come this manic animal

I married you for all the wrong re… charmed by your dangerous family h… by the innocent muscles, bulging l… weapons under your shirt, by your… the colors of painted scraps of su…