clues I can be what you need / me to be: water-rich, able / to sustain your breathing.

Tell him how sails resemble angel wings, / but show him the danger of sailing

She is fertile with water. She is ripe with god and sea oats.

“You an artist?” he asked me.

how he came to be oppressed or granted / free range as if dominion wasn't his to begin with

morning is ripe with new springs popping / down the mountainside, streaking it with thaw.

Perhaps you have to have the right kind of thirst / to keep yourself inside your body.

“You’re Lennon,” Alice said. “I’m Alice.”

almost home: / above and beyond / the Jemez, hoofprint clouds

a thin song / drifts like a wood scent, burned leaves, / from some past I can’t place

“Unless you were ever, even for a moment, outside time, you can’t know what it means to be thrust into it.”

Sleep is what this longs for, what her shoulders / spell out, runes smoother than sandstone

the world touching a thought // a funnel of naked . . .

"When the lantern fluid runs out...they will switch to batteries, and when the batteries run out they will switch to darkness."

when the wind blows / I’ll know direction is just another way / of saying come home.

Poem translated from the German by Anatoly Kudryavitsky and Yulia Kudryavitskaya.

New Fiction: "The family promises they’ll be careful not to choke on the baby Jesus."

listen to ceiling opening / to sky, a blue such as you’ve never tasted

His loved body / hosts the virus.

New Fiction: "Life in AmeriCorps is full of little rebellions."