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Peaches

I am almost never standing in the ocean, not that way, not anymore.

Pentimenti

Florence’s cobbled streets spoke like a broken wheel, a halfhearted inferno.

People Fall All the Time

A branch breaks and the body lands the wrong way. Snapping is easy.

People We Will Never See Again

He began singing, the words to a song that played from hidden speakers.

Perfect

He was so frail, how could your heart not break when you saw him?

Perfume River

He does not dare to ask the question flaring in his head. Will she stay.

Perhaps an Albatross

Barbra Nightingale

Perseids and Other Poems

She whispers all these rocks burning up in the sky can’t be a good thing.

Pheasant Hunting

He was getting a divorce. I was married with two teenage children.

Phone Cards

Doctor, he devoted. When she poorly, he bring her mint tea in bed.

Pietà

The church was clearly the work of a madman driven crazy by the wind.

Pink Adobe

I’m there inside La Fonda at the bar ordering another glass of red wine!

Plagiarism

You think I couldn’t write it because I look like a mechanic, I said.

Plot with the Horses in My Heart/with the Birds in My Mouth

I didn’t want to start a poem with night where there should be a name.

Poem after Carlos Drummond de Andrade

It’s life that is hard: sleeping, eating, loving, and dying are easy.

Poems from OBIT

Death is our common ancestor. It doesn’t care who we have dined with.

Poised, Like Jellies

We’d open our mouths and sink, trying to make an ocean of ourselves.

Pop Rivet

Finger tracing the terrain, you hold me through autumn’s loss of color.

Prayer and Other Poems

Maybe it’s a Thursday, & I’m coming home to make you dinner.

Prayer Before Turning on the News

God, I need to know what happened to those who tried to cross.

Presence and Other Poems

His mooseness was implacable, the light behind him from the trees.

Pretty Parts

“Tell me about the things you can’t tell me about when I’m dressed.”

Primal

All of this leaves me floating in seas of prehistory and indeterminacy.

Privilege

“We don’t feel like a couple. Haven’t felt like a couple for a very long while.”

Promise

What felt like sanctity now felt like nothingness, like death.

Promises

He folds on himself like a sheet kicked off the foot of a bed.

Provenance

Every day I was forced to return to the one place I did not want to be.

Purple Field

One makes one’s peace with words in a poem and space in a dream.

Put This Book Down

Everything is mine on loan: the leaves I’ve combed out of my hands.

Quiescent and Other Poems

Before giant pandas earn heir name, they cub pinkly and mewling.