Category: Poetry
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An Impossible Gift
A poem for my mother on Mother’s Day.
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Connections
My nephew’s heart.
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Kateri
In which Hot Priest unfortunately does not tell me to kneel
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death & spritzers
Or, Saturday brunch
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POEM
“(but I hate all that crap)” – Frank O’Hara
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it will be hard to let go
a poem by Lucille Clifton
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the pleasure principle
Lonely, like
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Trashy life, rosy mythologies
“Pseudo-problems!” — S.S.
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At the Jonesville Walmart, pts. 1 & 2
On feeling a kind of free, & female friendship.
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Quarantine Sundays
An exceptionally strange time; everything almost collapses on me
ARH 