Stationery
The moon did not become the sun. It just fell on the desert in great sheets, reams of silver handmade by you. The night is your cottage industry now, the day is your brisk emporium. The world is full of paper. Write to me.
4 tygodnie temu
The Jogger on Riverside Drive, 5:00 A.M.
The dark scissors of his legs cut the moon’s raw silk, highways of wind torn into lanes, his feet pushing down the shadow whose patterns he becomes while trucks, one by one, pass him by, headlights pouring from his pace, his eyes cracked as the Hudson wraps street lamps…
4 tygodnie temu
Postcard from Kashmir
Kashmir shrinks into my mailbox, my home a neat four by six inches. I always loved neatness. Now I hold the half-inch Himalayas in my hand.…
4 tygodnie temu
Even the Rain
What will suffice for a true-love knot? Even the rain? But he has bought grief’s lottery, bought even the rain. “our glosses / wanting in this world” “Can you remember?” Anyone! “when we thought / the poets taught” even the rain?…
4 tygodnie temu
The Wolf's Postcript to 'Little Red Riding Hood'
First, grant me my sense of history: I did it for posterity, for kindergarten teachers and a clear moral: Little girls shouldn’t wander off in search of strange flowers, and they mustn’t speak to strangers.…
4 tygodnie temu
Beyond the Ash Rains
What have you known of loss That makes you different from other men? — Gilgamesh When the desert refused my history, Refused to acknowledge that I had lived there, with you, among a vanished tribe,…
4 tygodnie temu