It wasn’t just the insubstantial handcuffs with their lacy designs; or, it was just that…
my day of death
feed your sheepdog with all the good dirt of the earth,and then dance with her — for she has been…
I set out to visitan empty mailboxI am sure, nowthat I am full ofrust Over the dimpledground of…
The ease with which I dress,
A poem
In the spaces you once inhabited now shadow takes its place.Why refer to you in metaphors and not your name when…
Here, there are no road signs,Each step is a calamitous wordInto the Silence.