Where in the spirit world/ have you taken up lodging
Poetry
Posted inPoetry
The World Gives My Mother Back to Me
she’d pull this red dress from the rack/ (where I will leave it), and bear it home/ to me because I wear too much black.
Posted inPoetry
Works both familiar and surprising: America’s Fall poetry roundup
In this roundup of poetry from the past year, ‘America’ editors and staff explore worlds of verse and fragments of reality that enchant and unsettle.
Posted inPoetry
In Times That Trouble
Though riverbeds might buckle, breaching wide, I will not murmur. No, I will hold true.
Posted inPoetry
The Highest Boughs
The gleams of rain that pool in withered leaves;
The blackened lump of stone amid the ashes.
Posted inPoetry
Liturgy in the Glow
I imagine the algorithms
as monks in long habits,
praying at impossible speed,
Posted inPoetry
At the end of my suffering there was a door
Outside, a snow lay over the lake like ash
