poetry.

 

 
 

JUNE 2018
"driving with lucretius"// nc literary review (print)

Alone on a mountain road sloping toward flatter land,
I drive—now swaddled by arching branches
and leaves and dim light filtering through, now
exposed and rolling loose along cupped valley floors.
In deep shadow, streams tumble frothy
between bare blackened stones, then disappear
into earth beneath the road. A valley church’s
glossy white paint scatters sunlight in all directions
as if for fun God’s mimicking that first breathy time. . .


JUNE 2018
"severance" // nc literary review (print)

anne boleyn
marked passages
in tyndale’s outlawed book
about popes and kings
and god

ideas saved for henry’s eyes
meant for revolution
for dissolution
maybe
even for love

she pressed her thumbnail
into the margin and dragged it
down the page
to create a faint
indented
line. . .


JUNE 2018
"deciphering the oracle" // philosophical idiot

perhaps mothers of diapered babies
do this too: examine each new shit produced.

the horse was sick last week. miles
of tangled intestines stalled & stilled. stagnant.

so here i am, bending & peering into the miracle
pile he’s just made, searching for meaning

like a priest of delphi straining to interpret garbled nonsense
uttered by the writhing girl inhaling noxious vapors. . .


MAY 2018
"florida fauna suburbia" // the cabinet of heed

they don’t even hide anymore,
the snakes in the ferns, draping slack & slick
& blue-black across giant fingered fronds.

lizards skitter away but come right back
to catch dinner. quick dart toward
ants hauling a husk of grasshopper,

theft of a feast. even the big owls
don’t seem to mind you passing
where they perch on fence posts. . .


JANUARY 2018
"farm nights" // nclr online

searching under
towering live oaks
for a lost halter
buried in sand

bandaging a leg

smearing ointment
on a flesh sliced open
who knows how. . .

nomination: best of the net


  [Nomination: Pushcart Prize] [2nd Place:  2015 James Applewhite Poetry Prize ]   At five I asked my grandfather what happens to the Chesapeake when it stops there at the sky and   he told me about the giant waterfall forever tumbling off the edge of the Earth.  You’  ve never heard of it?  he asked. [ . . . ]

JULY 2016
"waterfall" // nc literary review (print)

At five I asked my grandfather
what happens to the Chesapeake
when it stops there at the sky
and he told me about the giant waterfall
forever tumbling off the edge of the Earth. . .

2nd Place: 2015 james applewhite poetry prize
nomination: pushcart prize