Explore

Air and Space

You walk and the world bends toward you like leaves waiting for rain.

All My Friends Are Sad & Bright

We’ve seen the news. We know the story. How even our bodies hurt us.

All Saints’ Eve

Why did it take Steven’s small coffin to get me to see my own son?

All the Girls Are Fat in Heaven

When you are sixteen and sixty-five pounds, you are all shadows.

Allergy

Had I always known this would happen? There had been no signs.

Alluvium

He longed only for Claire’s strange seriousness, her silent focus.

Amatoria Nervosa

It is our first time, both of ours. This sentence ends with hate myself.

America

I stand within her walls with not a shred of terror, not a word of jeer.

American Idol

Karen was, in that moment, nothing, emptiness. She was oblivion.

Ampersand

In carved hearts—the artery, link that links but won’t spell it out.

An Injury to One

You are afraid pain itself might develop a way to communicate.

An Instance of Love

We have harvested nothing more than the stench of middle age.

Anaphora

In every pair, one shoe smells of exodus, the other of the body’s sweat.

Andromeda Variations

As Andromeda, I practiced lapidary, cut my bare foot on the nautilus shell.

Anniversary of You

Why not keep singing when another car pulls up to the light?

Another Pastoral

Tell me our species matters more, tell me that, and I, I will crawl back.

Another Poem with Deer in It

The highway hot with possibility, a new herd expected every five miles.

Another Star

“Please, please, please,” she begged the class. “Please don’t do it.”

Anthropocene

When I say I’ve seen a man die, what I mean is many and always.

Anticonfessional

I tell him: junkies are the only people worth talking to about love.

Any Good Child

The problem with my mother is that she thinks everyone a fool.

Are We Not Men?

The girl marched directly up to me, glaring, and said, “You hit my dog.”

Argonaut

Bone unspools its musculature to the crush of atmosphere.

Arguing with Myself

“You need me,” says the mind. “I just want what’s best for you.”

Ars Poetica as Phrenology

When push comes to shove, I can get downright Aeolian on you, son.

Arthur Arellano

The pillow into which her face was turned muffled her voice.

Artificial Tears

Tears sometimes come in a bottle. Open and apply several times daily.

As Evening Falls

Later, in a sudden about-face, she gives herself to him entirely.

As Good as Could Be

I didn’t trust her. Relationships like ours aren’t built on trust.

As Human As It Gets

A bird is chirping outside, the world is carrying on, and she is in it.