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First we release the horses
I keep hearing them at night.
Maybe they have already died, but beautifully,
the way a fire can be gorgeous as a red berry-
stained mouth, luscious...
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New Muses for a Posthuman Age
Late last year I wrote a 10 sonnet sequence entitled New Muses for a Posthuman Age, the idea being to update the goddesses and answer...
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Racoon Hunting
I do not have the memory that some do, more often flashes, images, clip shots, waves, feelings. They come on the outbreath.
When I walk...
