Orpheus
If Orpheus throws a bean
poetry
Black
Black as a mole hole
Three Poems
Oh world be
To Deirdre
Deep buried in my body's need and fed
Picnic
'Let the poor fish drink,' she said,
Poem for Schizophrenics
The sleeper's heavy, hating eyes will close
The White Flowers of March
The way it was in the afternoons
Tall Trees
Tall trees overwhelmed with branches
Indian Summer
So many Autumns ignite in each gold leaf.
Hear
This track through cloud is real
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Current Issue: No. 301
