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Northern California

Teams spend days surveying the damage and label me a mess.

Notes from a Breakup: A Field Guide through Heartbreak

“Why do we always fight,” he finally said, his voice quiet, resigned.

Notes from My Apprenticeship

Here is the fat guy whose Chihuahua gnawed through his stomach.

November Night

Like steps of passing ghosts, the leaves break from the trees.

Nowhere Man

There’s no way to escape a storm at sea; it hits you, and you can’t hit back.

Nowhere, Australia

Navigating the trailer park at night felt like a raid on a strange village.

Now’s Dream

That what I call my Self is asleep, and has dreamed up these lilacs.

Observations on Connectivity

Einstein postulated that space and time sit neatly on the same fabric

Ode to Repetition

She’s not the same, her body more naked in its aging, its disorder.

Ode to the Boot Scraper on the Stoop and Other Poems

Mostly, though, you could turn them in your hand, hold them to your nose.

Ode to What I Do Not Know

Two animals, doe-eyed, slick across the road into the femur of the night.

Odysseus’s Mother-in-Law

If party isn’t what we set out to do then you should go home.

Of Course Pliny Got Here First and Other Poems

Some asshole on a joyride in the outback runs her down, the emu.

Of Marriage, of Glass Gardens

Once upon a time, a couple wandered in a glass forest, hand in hand.

Oh Father, Your Fear

Is it that he is too tired or too afraid to blink into the oil of his own machine?

Oh You Little Faith

What if it does choose, the egg, I mean, her favorite spermatozoon.

Oil

I sometimes have to laugh because even now, as a middle-aged man.

On a Day That Is Cold

The birds have all flown to Mars for water and Crisco and red.

On Birdsong

The hymn that’s resurrected from the hymnal aspires to the spiritual.

On Nancy Hale’s “Flotsam”

This is a crafty story and things are not what they seem to be.

On the Aggrieved and Other Poems

A man drunk on the damage he made to a boy’s young mouth.

On the Fourteenth Day without a Father

In its shadow, our mislaid secrets cascade down around us.

Opening Day

I cradled the lifeless bird in my hand and marveled at its beauty.

Oppressive Nights

Not long after Christmas, the smoke really hit Melbourne.

Oracle

Put out to pasture, flop down into clover, alternate to the glue factory.

Orange Berries Dark Green Leaves

It is like the call of a voice the call of a voice that is not there.

Oregon 1945

On a jet stream, unearthly, air can travel at hundreds of miles per hour.

Origin of the World

Fly through 13 billion years of history in this graphic story.

Orisha Poems

The woman who raised the woman who raised me was a mistress.

Out Pruning

In the garden this morning, I thought for a moment I saw T’ao Ch’ien.