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Not Wanted in the Garden

Not Wanted in the Garden

When my father could no longer live independently in the home where I was raised, my brother and I cleared the place out and sold it. My brother claimed a bounty of bric-a-brac from the house, including two sets of dinnerware, a snowblower, and my mother’s wedding dress. Over and over again, he and his …

Love Poem with a Shop-Vac Full of Wasps

Love Poem with a Shop-Vac Full of Wasps

Outside, the swarm. The dog found it first,ran crying, and now we’re both wearing balaclavasin July. You in mittens, two sweatshirts, some Oakleysfrom God knows where, hands up against the sliding glass.After the poison, the exterminator, still the waspsevery morning. The dog’s face swollen now like a football.In their nest they sleep well, we think. …

This Is No Time for Poetry,

This Is No Time for Poetry,

after Untitled (Hang iambics), Cy Twombly, 1994 so why not ask that halo of dark whisper for anything, everything: why not write the litany of wax and ash on the first page of the book ofAll My Shortcomings? Haven’t I lived long enoughin the bone hollow, long enough in bonebreak and brakelight?When do I not …

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