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& the War Was in Its Infancy Then

By the time I looked over my shoulder, the sun had already fallen.

A Childhood in Four Acts

End of October, days recede quickly into night. Leaves fall in slow motion.

A Turning of the Stairs

Those eight or nine steps climbed toward a small, low window.

Babylon Sister

Ah, yes, Rita reminded herself: I won. Her Mistress of Mayhem award.

Bishop’s Lace Grows Rampant

He phones from across the country after lying in the grass with another.

Christian Soldiers

In the street waiting for a cab, Ann’s boyfriend entrusted me with the story.

Crusaders

Husk was sturdy. He just breathed like it. Not like me. My lungs rattle.

Dear Jesse Helms

And jesse, the smart bombs do not recognize the babies.

Dirt

There’s a god sitting, the morning foaming in his mouth.

Disbelief

I was constantly being torn between belief and disbelief in his narrative.

Downhill Triolets

Ring, ring, ring at 2 a.m. means meth’s got my brother in the slammer again.

Elements of Style

The rich man adorns himself and the elegant man gets dressed.

fever dream sonnet with Francesca Woodman

you crawl into a hole & pull the hole in after you on judgment day even our mothers will flee from us.

Five Poems

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

For the Love of the Game

Grass grows, birds fly, waves pound the sand. I beat people up.

Four Poems

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

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.

From Deluge

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

Ghazals for the Body

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

Grace

Hard to know what a prisoner believes, what the guard presumes.

Hands

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

Hometown Nocturne and Other Poems

What is greater: the distance between these bodies, or their need?

I Carried My Father Across the Sea

He was a child. He was dead. He was the shaft of a Long-tailed Astrapia.

Little Gifts

His eyes, dark brown and unwavering as he delivered the details.

Miss Harriet

I am going to relate to you the most lamentable love affair of my life.

Muslim Girlhood

I watched to see how the others lived, not knowing I was the Other.

My Daughter and God

My wife had time to form a thought: I have killed my daughter.

Of God and His Enemies

Logic is such an elegant weapon; and religion, such an easy target.

Pa’ la Calle

I knew in the dream that I was a condor in the shape of a girl.