Poetry

You think there’s more to this. Look: When I look I see skeletons walking around. I see ghosts of mammals gallivanting with iPhones in and out of bookshops, yesteryear’s biplanes spiraling

“How prove you that in the great heap of your knowledge? Ay, marry, now unmuzzle your wisdom.” As You Like It I.ii Stand you forth now. Stroke your chin. Swear by what

I walk with my niece down the wet cracked pavement, fingers gripped by her miniature fierceness, feet tripping after her intent to leave no petal untouched, no pebble unturned. I remember when snow

In my kitchen there are mottled clouds on the ceiling, puddles of light on the floor. New York City never really gets dark & I try to find comfort in that we’re

Are you dying? I asked the bird on the sidewalk. No, he said, I forgot where the wind is. But are you dying? I asked as the bright kernel of his eye dimmed.