
#NeverTrump: 30 days of poetry by American women, queers, & non-whites. 30/30—Brooks.
from To the Diaspora To Prisoners I call for your cultivation of strength in the dark. …
from To the Diaspora To Prisoners I call for your cultivation of strength in the dark. …
miss rosie when I watch you wrapped up like garbage sitting, surrounded by the smell of too old potato …
Epithalamia Butane, propane and lungful of diesel. I did not stand a chance. Always with poison breath, bill, responsibility: …
The Nothing At thirty minutes before it comes, the black sky goes indigo, leafless trees like cracks, fractals, shadowy …
Naked Woman, Her Repose A quiet, doleful state between two stages of sleep. Pooling skin purple and yellow, mottled. …
Cat on the Wall Zookeeper, listen: invisibility is a strange success & not mine. de profundis it sings …
Thinking of James Dean Like a nickelodeon soaring over the island from sea to bay, two pots of gold, …
from Paean to Place River rising—flood Now melt and leave home Return—broom wet naturally wet Under soak-heavy rug water …
[‘Over a period of thirty years (1910-1940), a series of Chinese immigrants passing through Angel Island in San Francisco Bay …
from Elegy in a Spider’s Web The genii who cannot cease to know What to say when the spider …
Shedding The dream was worn. She had shown too much of herself— prone in fluorescent light. How will she …
Secret Life Alone with time, he waits for his parents to wake, a boy growing old at the dining …
from The Many I never told you: one storm I stood on the roof at 113th St. & …
July 4, 1974 At least it helps me to think about my son a Leo/born to us (Aries and …
from To Bryher [6] In me (the worm) clearly is no righteousness, but this— persistence; I escaped spider-snare, bird-claw, …
There’s No Place Like Rain claimed the day, and I crept to the lake, where typewriter patter fizzed …
As Long as the Sky Whirls For Lázaro Gómez As long as the sky whirls You will be my …
[Exordium: ‘In what way names’] In what way names were applied to things. Filtration. Not every word that has …
Brutally, the Robin clutches the clear muscles of the ice- laden branches. Without a scrap, without a word he …
American Sonnet for Wanda C. Who I know knows why all those lush-boned worn-out girls are Whooping at where …