| Date |
Title |
Content |
|
the kind of day to walk away from |
It is the kind of day to walk away
& the... |
|
what comes after |
What comes after
the wind? Still... |
|
Moonlit |
It is the scent of lilies
I come home to,... |
|
What Sam Shepard and Sandro Botticelli Both Know |
Clouds, how to break open a sky.
The... |
|
The Weight of Knowing |
You tell me the sky holds nothing, it is... |
|
Facts of Circumstance |
Yesterday, morning broke pink
and... |
|
Among the wounded we find an Angel |
We expect them to last, last longer
than... |
|
Distant Spring |
There is no cure for joy
or loneliness, or... |
|
We Know, This |
This is what we know.
Song came first. ... |
|
Take-off |
The men put their belts back on
as they... |
|
The Quick and the Dead |
The sun is so quick
in November the... |
|
A Notable Woman |
A notable woman requires lines
like... |
|
Predictions |
Things will fall that have never fallen... |
|
Condolence |
We are standing in a sea of black
suits... |
|
Poets |
Sometimes, it is better
to listen to... |
|
Family: Photograph |
She sits on the bike—a Christmas present... |
|
Dream of this |
She wonders why she doesn’t dream
of... |
|
This is where I'm coming from |
Men with dogs, hunting rifles, fists full of... |
|
What Sam Shepard and Sandro Botticelli Both Know |
Clouds, how to open a sky.
The beauty of... |
|
Nine Ways of Looking at You |
Black and white photographs,
loss squared... |
|
Rain |
Repent
Tell me light doesn’t love to swim... |
|
The history of empty spaces |
Walk until the sweat dries
on your brow,... |
|
Count the |
rain that falls
steady as my heart,... |
|
History of the Arctic Cod |
In the middle of winter
we dream of flesh,... |
|
How I Love You on a Gray September Monday |
It isn’t like rain suddenly falling, or
a... |
|
In the End |
In the end she remembered her garden,
the... |
|
While Waiting on a Train |
Watching shadows of trees on a moving... |
|
Surrendel |
Yield to me your bones, your song
Sweet... |
|
Hang-over |
A dim light, a small flickering... |
|
Any apostle will do |
As long as he can fish. Knows how to... |
|
Spain would be a good place to die |
My son says, on the way home from school... |
|
On the Day You Lost Track of |
It rained in Pittsburgh. Sunny, but... |
|
the lake tonight |
she is still
so quiet, I stop each... |
|
Before morning sobers (dean fields) |
She will leave the porchlight off... |
|
she tells him |
She tells him she’s in the mood for... |
|
March Forth |
Buried deep under layer of winter
I am... |
|
Hallelujah (Ben Kyle & Romantica) |
Shooting baskets with my brother,
the... |
|
We’re married, Just not to each other |
This bright February morning... |
|
Run the Wire (Brown Bird) |
Tonight, I’m drinking red wine
wondering... |
|
Maps (Yeah Yeah Yeahs) |
The Ojibwa call this
the little sucker... |
|
Lies I Never Told |
When I was eight I read a story about a... |
|
The architecture of language |
We parse morning and coffee, quilt... |
|
Afterwards |
I am washing the last glass, wiping it... |
|
Promising Light |
from here it is hard
to tell land from... |
|
Nothing Else Matters |
Even though I am wearing one, two, three,... |
|
Unsatisified, Take Two |
I am tired of words, tired of their... |
|
Morton, MN |
Morton's never lonely. Not with Marshal and... |
|
Beyond the Horizon |
Let's not talk about the cold
or how long... |
|
Season's Greetings |
The road glistens, snakes its way
through... |
|
Tenderness |
We are opening the one gift
we’ve brought... |
|
Night Plow Man |
Window rolled down
just a few inches, the... |
|
This Is Home |
A sickle moons hangs in the southern... |
|
dictionary: the appendix |
They leave for the end
shards of blue... |
|
Dictionary: Guide to Pronunciation |
I do not remember your voice
only the... |
|
Dictionary |
They sit on the edge of the bed,
with the... |
|
I'd Like to Say |
I’d like to say I don’t remember
taking the... |
|
A Spell for a November Day |
Forget the feel of skin warmed by... |
|
Ring of Fire |
the blue edge of smoke curls and winds... |
|
Secrets the Bird Told the Leaves |
Ride the air as long as you can.
Bliss... |
|
Heaven Blues |
with thanks to Lucinda Williams
We... |
|
Killing the Blues |
(swinging the world by its tail)
Tonight... |
|
The Past and Pending |
I’d tell you to burn, rather than move,... |
|
We Won’t Last Another Year |
the beach grass, low and green
carves... |
|
Keep it Tight |
All you need is one good white... |
|
Come downstairs and say hello: Dusty’s, Saturday Night |
By this time next week
his black eye... |
|
I need |
to tell you that leaves fall deeper into... |
|
Voices Carry |
Somewhere in my body
is a room with a door... |
|
Prime numbers |
2. a memory of a yellow bird in a silver... |
|
To eat |
a peach on this last day of summer
as... |
|
Seventeen |
Somewhere between the color indigo and... |
|
Getting Stoned with Jesus |
A prayer of thanksgiving is what this... |
|
As the crescent moon drifts off to sleep |
You ask me for a cigarette, cup your hand... |
|
Stranded, Part 2 |
5. Each bend towards the horizon hurts... |
|
Stranded in the Middle of August |
1. We write our way into silence until... |
|
And She Knows |
He tells her
i have lost it
she does... |
|
Safe Bets |
Near the track, a guy, in his sixties,... |
|
a moveable feast |
an alex & julia collaboration
In... |
|
What I saw tonight |
what I saw tonight
one man center floor... |
|
Shells |
triggered by Jennifer's poem, written... |
|
How to Wear My Own Shadow |
I don’t know how to wear my own shadow
down... |
|
june |
I see in this june morning light
that... |
|
She wonders if |
She wonders if the backdoor is locked
or if... |
|
with you |
With you the sky blue sky can shift to... |
|
Why this city looks good in gray |
There is rain; tin and aluminum clouds, bark... |
|
soft wood |
He dreams of pine forests--
loves the smell... |
|
she knows |
She knows the empty fireplace could... |
|
Next Time |
The next time you see me
the rain will beat... |
|
Because I Miss You |
This is co-written by Alex Stolis and me,... |
|
Once, upon |
Call me an American myth
a beauty, asleep,... |
|
yesterday |
Two birds on the corner
one a flash of... |
|
and sometimes y |
The sky no longer wants the white of my... |
|
Waiting, For the Next |
Your silent name,
the taste in my... |
|
To My Missing Poem |
Today I wonder if you can hear me
in the... |
|
Poetry |
And you are the reason
the clouds are... |
|
Pi, π |
Constant and irrational, I number and... |
|
American Compound Sentence |
Your mouth, wrists, shoulder blade I find, &... |
|
Stealing From Neruda |
Let’s steal a silver branch, a blossom... |
|
When I Add It All Up |
10
& up a tree, barefoot, hair in... |
|
Hourglass |
I think of a mountain of soft sand
each... |
|
Six Ways of Looking At You |
I.
You are dawn, azul
The alabaster... |
|
The Last Snow |
Happiness requires only this:
A warm wind... |
|
Fishing with My Grandfather |
Rain falls, the surface trembles
with... |
|
Midnight in Barcelona |
Out my bedroom window
clouds cover the... |
|
Without You (title stolen from Alex) |
My face is but a shadow
my lips broken... |
|
Black on Black |
I put the quarters back to back
in the... |
|
This Morning |
I wake
to a hundred different... |
|
Snow White’s Dream before Waking |
She dreams she is a bear, hungry for... |
|
White on White |
A world draped in white, a sky
made of... |
|
How To Fall In Love and Remain Whole |
Watch the sun slant
trip westward and try... |
|
When We Dive |
I take your hand, stand at the edge of the... |
|
He Tells Her |
He tells her he’s taken years
off his life... |
|
Unnamable Days |
You hold the sun in your hand, peel it... |
|
Today |
Today can’t take her eyes off of you. ... |
|
Because |
Because I
feel lost if I don’t
search... |
|
Notice |
Watch a bird in flight
soaring between... |
|
A Secret |
No frost today on my window,
no tumbling... |
|
Traveling with Children |
A small girl the color of coffee with... |
|
This Winter Sky |
I am this winter sky, I want the sun to... |
|
Wanderlust |
Pick a number, we’ll find a road with the... |
|
the same bar |
we are both young, too young to worry... |
|
Collide |
Collide
I’m not going to apologize
for... |
|
The Shape of Everything |
the shape of everything I want
lies... |
|
The Next Blank Page |
I am listening to the quiet of an empty... |
|
This Dog |
This dog caught in the rain
looks even... |
|
Splendor and Gravel |
Splendor and gravel
she carries on the... |
|
Twilight's Confession |
It is night’s seduction
that empties the... |
|
Cleaning Fish |
Near the edge of the pond, stood
the... |
|
Ice |
Tonight I feel like ice, and about to... |
|
The Liver Brothers |
After the morning pancake rush
Maple and... |
|
In Your Cup |
I would like to be the coffee in your cup. ... |
|
A New Layer |
A new layer of snow coats every... |
|
Home |
Sun breaks through tangled branches of... |
|
As I Skate |
Tonight the moon’s half full, circled by a... |
|
What We Carry, for Lean |
What we cook, we carry, from market to... |
|
A Prayer for Ella |
inspired by
|
|
To my Lake |
I love the view from where you are--
a... |
|
Birch |
Been thin and supple,
been here for a... |
|
First One to Fall |
The day you left for China I drove to work... |
|
American Dreams: Summer 1973 |
He woke me round midnight, told me to pull... |
|
Take Away (In Response to Alex's poems) |
Take away the church bells,
their constant... |
|
Summer in America, 1976 |
The summer before my father died
he sat at... |
|
Purgatory |
There is no seat you want to sit in, no... |
|
Confession |
Number 1. Original and actual sin may be... |
|
We Are The Stellas |
for
|
|
Things We Were Too Young to Know |
That words would not help us,
that skin... |
|
Self-Portrait with Thorn Necklace and Hummingbird |
to the
|
|
Conversation At Daybreak on the Last Day my Son is Six Years Old |
As the sun broke the sill he said
the first... |
|
Trail |
She thought about leaving breadcrumbs,
but... |
|
The Disbelievers |
for
|
|
He Tells Me |
for
|
|
Choice |
He will surely
deny it, but
it was his... |
|
Wingspan |
He tells me about his grandmother
who had... |
|
Open Books |
They are books, she and he
They lounge side... |
|
Iron |
It is the taste in my mouth when I think of... |
|
Temptation |
for
|
|
Aqueduct |
for
|
|
Loring Station |
He asked me if there was anything... |
|
Brooklyn Bridge |
I’ve always admired your arches
how tall... |
|
Crossing Over |
It is a small thing, crossing over,
steps... |
|
It Was a Hard Summer for Living Things |
Each day the same, brings anything but rain,... |
|
Closing Time |
She sits in the park on a bench
lost to... |
|
Of Recklessness and Water |
If the Tiber River should wash me away,... |
|
That Night |
The phone first rang at 6:15,
a friend... |
|
Get Up |
for:
|
|
Rain Falls for the Third Day Running |
for:
|
|
What I Want From You |
for:
|
|
Trout Never Use Doors |
for
|
|
From Dragonfly, to Lily |
I am ancient
fly on glassine wings
from... |
|
It's Happy Hour |
The stone pillars of the porch frame a... |
|
Pieces and Shards |
Tonight it is the sound of breaking... |
|
Where the Tiber River and I Meet |
I was once a vessel
filled with knowledge... |
|
Atop Vernal Falls |
For the photo,
|
|
Grave |
We stopped on the way to the beach
to see... |
|
Three Things |
For
|
|
Eraser/Untitled |
The tumor they removed this time
was the... |
|
How Simple |
For the photo
|
|
Isis: Tug |
For the photo
|
|
Eyes Closed |
For the photo of
|
|
The Old Elm |
In the corner of our front yard there was... |
|
Genealogy |
My grandparents
left no footprints, only... |
|
Where He is Now |
Where is he now
as the rain falls heavy... |
|
My Father: 1975 |
Watching my father square up to home plate,... |
|
She Thought |
Love was like waves
building and endless,... |
|
This Place on Earth |
That birds leave
that snow erases all... |
|
poppies |
Paper thin
the color of passion
like... |
|
This Poem Wants |
Communion of skin and fire
sips of blood... |
|
At Forty-Three |
I am an odd number
the square root of... |
|
After You Leave |
Like night, you slip out before dawn.
the... |
|
Some Words |
Some words leave me wasted.
Used, they line... |
|
Stimulate |
Begin with nothing but this:
Something to... |
|
Sabine |
She gave us a ride back to the hostel
In... |
|
Epoch |
There is
this moment in time
that... |
|
Nowhere |
Rolling hills, harvesters
followed by a... |
|
Life During Wartime, Take Two |
See borders I want to cross.
Will not go... |
|
Woman |
She’s just selling you kindling.
You will... |
|
A Simple Solution |
Choose agony, mix it with woe
then settle... |
|
To Go |
I stand here, with the sun on my face,
eyes... |
|
Danae |
In a bronze room
locked away
passion finds... |
|
A Delectable Dish |
Start fresh. Hand-picked
berries wooed by... |
|
Leaving |
Leaving this place
of granite, pine and... |
|
A Brief History of Outhouses in my Family |
When my grandma Lydia divorced Grandpa Fred,... |
|
Love and a Prayer |
Stoney, steep, rugid, & rocky
words love... |
|
One By One |
Sometimes words come to me
like a good... |
|
What I'd Like |
I’d like to tie my love to a string
watch... |
|
Watch |
In a hostel in East Berlin
we watched the... |
|
Sideshows |
What more could mummy want, but the gin... |
|
Beer |
Beer, amber and pale
Thick, heady and... |
|
The World In Black and White |
Gunmetal and steel
are the color of their... |
|
All Without Words Are Lost |
All without words are lost
A frost-lined... |
|
Body of Evidence |
Start at my ankle
feel the scar cross the... |
|
Underneath It All |
Somehow he always
knew what she... |
|
Indian Summer Day |
The house is hot.
The earth, dusty and... |
|
Burn |
To be a feather of a crow
sleek and light,... |
|
Let me In |
In is where I want to be
through the doors... |
|
All Hope |
I remember the circles, how each was more... |
|
Bread |
After my father died
my mom baked... |
|
Swimming In Lake Superior |
I have never seen anything darker, felt... |
|
When I Knew Him |
On the brick patio he built outside
my... |
|
Pearl |
Think luster. Think pearl. Think
how... |
|
Division |
I want to divide blue
the way you do. Be... |
|
You, Lucky You |
I know it’s you he’s looking at, you... |
|
Places and Names |
We arrived in Warsaw at dusk, on the... |
|
Abandon |
I want to walk with abandon
see through the... |
|
Friday Sept 28th, 2001 |
The leg bones of the World Trade Towers
are... |
|
1977: What I Wore |
One piece bathing suit
made of heavy double... |
|
Lift |
Sitting on the beach
the boys wading... |
|
BLue Bricks |
The room hasn’t changed—still a black hole,... |
|
Change of Address |
You asked for a forwarding address so I... |
|
In My Blood |
Veins weave, cross tendons and bones
head... |
|
Hum |
His eyebrows are harvest gold
from... |
|
The Garden of Eden is Shaped like a Triangle |
She often found herself in just such a... |
|
An Old Memory, Man |
This is an old memory, man. One I thought I... |
|
An Image of an Idea |
Give me a maple tree
encircled by its... |
|
Some Days |
Some days I want to take the paper
I’m... |
|
North of Escanaba, West of Lake Michigan |
The first sensation was heat. A thick air... |
