under a stained glass tree in the mortuary hall 2 armchairs waiting
Village dreamed Me. Even in pure City. Attack with the alleycats and any old dogbark gone flat. The couple joined hands to twist again and turned to smooch first. Tongues far old out and sniff into there what a texture the fingers fixed for interlacing none could ever...
The past confuses— I see your gorgeous face through dusk-backed curtains And see your smile although in those past days, your smiles were rare, your welcoming embraces rarer still and behind you now the traffic stops, drivers and passengers both awaiting they know not...
This translation of Dante Alighieri’s “Al poco giorno e al gran cerchio d’ombra” by Alan Bern was published as an illustrated printed broadside, currently out of print, but you can view the original image from Lines & Faces here (or above). Sestina translated by...
Footparts of the story’s dreamed crosspaths. A rounded ghost running through the darkening streets of the city buying gifts for everyone. Only maps of travel pretending there is a single route back from the cut edges of a flattened folly. Also published by...
Sway To drop a light grey sock over each dark shoe waiting, no boat no coffin, to carry her feet away— she will walk back again— remove the shoes, socks will drop away. I Sometimes at night, some nights, wake me to silence, its thrum is invitation to walk head...
