on the poetics of parting, inheriting, and moving to Substack
In these poems I muster the gentleness to say this, as Alycia says of a winged boat clicking, “must be the prosody of my own desires.”
A cat curled into a clock
Notes on animals in poems.
On Waiting
“Poet is a voice, I say, like Icarus, whispering to himself as he falls.”
…so there I went with three translations of the same book to watch Rilke create a god he can only create but never quite turn to.
What does one do on peering into a poem—or a photograph of an ancestor—and seeing oneself there? What does one do with a precedence like that?
From the River to the Sea
a man on firm ground is shrieking at the homing bird / he asks, can you draw a map from memory / of where you cannot go?
On Close-Reading Beyoncé
I am once again asking will there also be singing in the dark times—
An Occasion for Poemgranates
At what point do poems gather an occasion for themselves?
Invitation to a Day of 44 Sunsets
and to a poetry reading at the Poetry for the Pandemic FYI Series hosted by UVic Department of English