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Magi and Other Poems

I’m always driving through the desert, on the interstate’s black river.

Magic Words

Their leader is a badly wounded boy in need of wounding others.

Make It Black

Maybe that’s what she feels, not stranded, but suspended in time.

Making a Difference

I had pasted a pink Post-it to my phone screen that said DON’T DRINK.

Marantha

Today was the first day of her new life, and she was on an adventure.

Medial Tibial Stress Syndrome

When you turn fifty, you have to prove to yourself you’ve got something left.

Motherland

She wags her index finger so furiously that I’m certain it will snap off.

Mumbai

We know of friends and relatives who have passed away, young and old.

My Daughter and God

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

My First Boy

He would sneak into my room, we would have sex, he would sneak out.

My Mother’s Marathons

It is not surprising that her solo marathon did not turn out as planned.

My Third Time

My hands only knew. The painkillers in our mothers’ cabinets.

Mystery, Play and Other Poems

On a scale of 1 to 10, the pain dissolves like a Eucharist wafer.

Narrative 10

Try never to repeat rhymes, not once in an entire show. It tires the ear.

Narrative at The Lab

Narrows

The dope worked, though he felt ashamed using it, smoked in secret.

Neonates

She knew Jim would be a terrible husband. They’d murder each other.

New Year’s Weekend on the Hand Surgery Ward, Old Pilgrims’ Hospital, Naples, Italy

Ten years ago, when I was in college, my father divorced my mother and said he wanted me to become responsible for her. That is why I fled to Italy.

Night Dreams

I hang there, upside down, watching Bronwyn, her face beatific.

Nighthawk: Recollections of a Lost Time

Insomnia! There is a sickly romance to the affliction—initially.

Nonconcordant

I hear pleasure ringing, and I wonder what led us to this moment.

Nuisance Value

He knew deep down that only her ridiculous optimism kept them going.

Obit

The Village wasn’t really a village. No walnut trees. Just cut flowers.

Occupied

Riding back from her studio, Ivy thought, I’ll just stop for a minute.

Of Blood and Stem

If I had known I would have saved the abacus from the fire.

On Homesickness

I hand in my form. I wonder if the doctor with the needles will laugh at me.

On the Line

“How is it fair that you know who I am but I have to guess about you?”

One Pound Sterling

The hut was cluttered with the skulls and bones of small animals.

Oppressive Nights

Not long after Christmas, the smoke really hit Melbourne.

Outsider

The Bengalis negotiate their space with corrupt politicians and landsharks.