Poems

Wendell Phillips PEOPLE’S ATTORNEY, servant of the Right! Pleader for all shades of the solar ray, Complexions dusky, yellow, red, or white; Who, in thy country’s […]

A Catalpa Tree On West Twelfth Street While the sun stops, or seems to, to define a term for the indeterminable, the human aspect, here in […]

A Hedge Of Rubber Trees The West Village by then was changing; before long the rundown brownstones at its farthest edge would have slipped into trendier […]

A Hermit Thrush Nothing’s certain. Crossing, on this longest day, the low-tide-uncovered isthmus, scrambling up the scree-slope of what at high tide will be again an […]

A Silence past parentage or gender beyond sung vocables the slipped-between the so infinitesimal fault line a limitless interiority beyond the woven unicorn the maiden (man-carved […]

Beach Glass While you walk the water’s edge, turning over concepts I can’t envision, the honking buoy serves notice that at any time the wind may […]

Easter Morning a stone at dawn cold water in the basin these walls’ rough plaster imageless after the hammering of so much insistence on the need […]

Exmoor Lost aboard the roll of Kodac- olor that was to have super- seded all need to remember Somerset were: a large flock of winter-bedcover-thick- pelted […]

Fog A vagueness comes over everything, as though proving color and contour alike dispensable: the lighthouse extinct, the islands’ spruce-tips drunk up like milk in the […]

Nothing Stays Put In memory of Father Flye, 1884-1985 The strange and wonderful are too much with us. The protea of the antipodes—a great, globed, blazing […]