• The Terror

    The terror

    only

    lasts

    for seventy

    five

    years,

    more or less,

    and then the building

    is

    complete

    and you can simply

    live

    in

    it,

    above it,

    like a dove.

    Haunting the First

    Avenues and the Mains

    and the Broadways

    by

    day

    is just

    the beginning

    of the marvelous.

    Take off your Chevrolet

    poise,

    and

    see.

  • Anywhere Sidh

    The wanton word

    calling to mind

    is closer than

    pulp to the rind,

    soft to the bird.

  • Mount Ararat

    A tiny bug

    on the window

    of our goodbye

    stays all winter,

    a sign of why.

  • Snubbing Cadenza

    Paul Revere was

    irreverent

    to almighty

    George, prevalent

    as a zero.

  • Social Medea

    I use it as a bookmark,

    the stub from “Children of Men,”

    that meh movie we saw at

    the Angelika.

  • One and Sundry


    There was a hot spring

    in the new development

    off Cherry,


    and we swam in it,

    like intruders of the well-

    curated night of quiet abandon.

  • Psychologically

    Psychologically

    there

    wasn’t

    a bough

    to his branches,

    and his roots

    all

    rose

    to the sun.

    In the middle of the

    night a paw

    print

    appeared

    in the basement,

    as the invisible

    creature of

    his

    mind

    manifested

    under the house.

    In the morning the real

    dogs

    wondered at

    the

    ruse,

    smelling its

    dust

    for clues.

  • Seagulls Don’t Have to Quarrel

    All the haircuts

    tectonically

    rubbing my eyes:

    ironic, twee,

    trawling carefree.

  • Preview

    Tribalism,

    the video

    game version, is

    super ago

    and ultra um.

  • A Living Icon Pitching to a Grown Troglodyte

    Mal-twitterversed

    of scrawling pose,

    hold my last hand,

    enthrallingly

    a little wet.