February 2012
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January 2012
12 posts
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December 2011
5 posts
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November 2011
4 posts
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October 2011
9 posts
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The House of Headache
I woke up inside the headache. The headache is a room where I have to stay as I cannot afford to pay rent anywhere else. Every hair aches to the point of turning gray. There is an ache inside that Gordian knot, the brain, which wants to do so much in so many directions. The ache is also a half-moon hanging down in the light-blue sky; the color disappears from my face; my nose is...
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“To enlighten and to entertain: what else is there? And while good books—even...”
– Pete Dexter in The New York Times Book Review (Oct. 2, 2011)
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September 2011
11 posts
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August 2011
20 posts
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Self-Portrait as Shedding
Odd palsies in the red of a desert. Hives at the wrist, anxiety like a heron under my lung, winging up openmouthed. There is no body of water here, no mangroves to hide in. Only insomnia, stacked rattles stammering loose in the tail’s slow taper, scales also worming away, a reminder of this privilege: to reappear whole, having indulged the strange bird its hollow bones inside me.
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You will come first as a sound and then a breath
will come like a cold spell a hipbone
your lilt above the lake a crowcall you will come as expected in
iron weather will craft a blade
from the horse’s winter stall
In the barnlight I count the stiff ribs of my rifles gun oil
the floorboards gold with shells
there is migration in your coat your...
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