Poem

You have forty-nine days betweendeath and rebirth if you're a Buddhist.Even the smallest soul could swimthe English Channel in that timeor climb, like a ten-month-old child,every step of the Washington…

We think of hidden in a white dressamong the folded linens and sachetsof well-kept cupboards, or just out of sightsending jellies and notes with no addressto all the wondering Amherst…

You Don't Know What Love Isbut you know how to raise it in melike a dead girl winched up from a river. How towash off the sludge, the stench of…

Be who you are and will belearn to cherishthat boisterous Black Angel that drives youup one day and down anotherprotecting the ploace where your power risesrunning like hot bloodfrom the…

Billie Holiday's burned voicehad as many shadows as lights,a mournful candelabra against a sleek piano,the gardenia her signature under that ruined face.(Now you're cooking, drummer to bass, magic spoon, magic…

Don't lower your eyesor stare straight ahead to whereyou think you ought to be goingdon't mutter oh nonot another oneget a job fly a kitego bury a bonewith her oldfashioned…

Finding a new poetis like finding a new wildflowerout in the woods. You don't seeits name in the flower books, andnobody you tell believesin its odd color or the wayits…

Gassing the woodchucks didn't turn out right.The knockout bomb from the Feed and Grain Exchangewas featured as merciful, quick at the boneand the case we had against them was airtight,both…

I have banked the firesof my bodyinto a small but steady blazehere in the kitchenwhere the dough has a life of its own,breathing under its damp clothlike a sleeping child;where…