Elegy for Philip Levine
If you’re old enough to read this you know what work isn’t; it isn’t in poems or in the screed […]
If you’re old enough to read this you know what work isn’t; it isn’t in poems or in the screed […]
for Deah, Yusor, and Razan Too many times I have written this poem: blood a dark ink, moon a bullet
Winters, the round brown balls of manure would fall steaming in untidy piles, the horses unperturbed, their noses in a
for Mike Webster, 1952-2002 Were math still a function he could execute, he might round it up to twenty five
The storm front on the news that seemed improbable appears at the sky’s edge, a simple lie uncovered like a
A cartoon is not funny if I say a cartoon is not funny. You may think what you may think,