February 14

My husband shovels snow from flower beds back onto the drive.

Fire and Other Poems

We roasted mastodons. Designed skewers, ovens, steampits.

First Love, Last Love

I’m alive, Sarah thinks, the slam of his look going all the way in.

Fish Hook

Lure, yes, you would know how to catch and clean such a thing.

Five Poems

Elsewhere, perhaps here too, regimes stagger, a congress ends.

Fort Pierce, Florida

“You look like you’re about to fall over,” he says. “Are you all right?”


Suddenly two would dart and clasp one another belly to belly.

Four Poems

The mechanism and its crank pull us forever closer, you and I.

Four Poems

I want you enough to gnash you into a silence made from pieces of silver.

Four Poems

I am veins and breath, the entrance the world passes through.

Four Poems

Regarding the affairs of our Father, your demon is Ennui.

Four Poems

Through the dark, we say, through the dark: but do we ever really know?

Four Poems

This is the stupid math of loving another human being.

From A Red Cherry on a White-Tiled Floor

She bequeathed her children a mother who dreams and smiles.

From A Red Cherry on a White-Tiled Floor

Like lions in cages, women like me dream . . . of freedom . . .

From Deluge

I bled. God didn’t want to hear about it. He said unclean and so it was.

From Sonnets to the Humans

From The Testing of Luther Albright

From The Victor Poems

It was only a matter of time before the damp of loss grew within us like moss.

From “The Low Passions”

There’s no need to check for a pulse, hold a hand mirror for breath.


I wish I could tell him he’s not going to hell. It would be so freeing for him.

Ghazals for the Body

What I want is a woman who knows all the meanings of indulgence.

Go Humbly

What right does an American mutt like me have to depict in fiction the lives of a Salvadoran family?


Her knees seemed about to give way, and he quickly grabbed her elbow.

Grass Moon and Other Poems

You are home in your bed like a soft animal with really intense feelers.

Great Falls

Walking on Canal Street, I slipped on the curb and fell on my face.

Great Plains

All of those feelings—you do not have them, they have you.

Hand-Me-Down Halloween

The year we left the reservation a white boy gave me a trash bag.


The story of Wing Biddlebaum’s hands is worth a book in itself.

Hardview Hotel

Rules are rules. No one comes this close, this fast. Protocol reigns.