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Dear Jesse Helms

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

Dear John and Other Poems

Please look away from Mars dangling so angry in so much darkness.

Death in the Woods

He got his wife off a German farmer, for whom he went to work one day.

Decoy Project

Atomic bomb. How could those two words be said together?

Do You Have a Name?

You knelt down to kiss her, avoiding, of course, the wound at her brow.

Docent

Many people remarked upon the similarities between the flags.

Don’t Beat My Sister

The human heart is far more intricate than any single term can describe.

Downhill Triolets

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

Downhill Triolets

He’s in the back of the cop car, hands in handcuffs, shaped like infinity.

Dream Children

Yes, the race of children possesses magically sagacious powers!

Early Onset

I push the stroller across the courts to the scene of the thing I don’t get.

Earth in the Time of Billie Holiday

How can anyone imagine sleep is possible in such a time?

Egress

One who has suffered enough, you can love yourself to death.

Elizabeth Dalloway and Miss Kilman

She came from the most worthless of all classes—the rich.

Every Good Marriage Begins in Tears

To be married is to learn to love, captive in your own new country.

Evicted

Now all I was, all I had ever been, when it came down to it, was a tenant.

Fathers and Sons

He will, no doubt, be out of this house soon, headed over to Montgomery.

Fire and Other Poems

We roasted mastodons. Designed skewers, ovens, steampits.

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

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

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

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 “A Poppy in My Hair”

At 35,000 feet, the center of heaven, in the deep Milky Way, we meet.

Girl in Red

Instead, she stares right at us, her shoulder half-naked in broad daylight.

Go Humbly

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

Golden Days

Like superstitious sports fans, we played the song night after night. Since giving birth I’d become hyperaware of death.

Grass Moon and Other Poems

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