Oliver GiffordDressedMy lover is a suit of clothes And the three of us — my dimensions, her weave, our fit — are a Trinity: Equal, distinct, inseparable.Feb 11, 2020Feb 11, 2020
Oliver GiffordLost and FoundWe can never be lost, Even if the whole of our map Is a you-are-here marker Over our hearts And question marks Everywhere else.May 23, 2019May 23, 2019
Oliver GiffordYour Attention PleaseDon’t be a physiological response to advertisingOct 20, 2018Oct 20, 2018
Oliver GiffordAwake at 2:31 a.m. (a poem)I often picture the emergence of AI as a monolithic event.Aug 25, 2018Aug 25, 2018
Oliver GiffordShoreline SambaWhen I was a boy, he began, after a thousand false starts, We had everything; I was nothing; I had nothing; we were everything. Yes, even…Jul 23, 2018Jul 23, 2018
Oliver GiffordA Palpable Mood“He’s stuck,” she said, and for a second I thought he might be, because he was wiggling several of his legs but hadn’t moved a millimeter…Jun 29, 20182Jun 29, 20182
Oliver GiffordThe MarkFor many years the mark was nothing more than an inexplicable curiosity, a piece of obscure trivia familiar only to coroners, morticians…Aug 18, 20141Aug 18, 20141