(Joyce meets tsunami)
east, in the eastern rising lands, a tide, westering, earthdrawn,
rising, the morning sun bloodied in its wake. She drags, pulls, shifts,
hauls, trascines her hydraulic load. Tides born of tides, moondrawn,
myriadheaded, within her, within her blood, oinopa ponton:
the winedark sea. A wet sign calls her hour, bids the earth-shaken
fallen rise, bids the wet-dirt wounded rise, bids the blooddimmed
peoples rise, as she radiates out, out, out, forever from her bed. The
wet sign calls her hour, bids all to rise from childbed, bridebed,
deathbed, rise. He comes, the pale salt vampire, in clouds and tears,
and claws, battle-led, draws, battle-red, mouth-to-mouth, limb-to-limb,
- ► 2017 (52)
- t(his), (he)re
- MY VRONSKY
- How to Meet and Dance with Your Death (Como encue...
- PEN dinner honoring anti-Putin dissident writers
- The Diary of the Warsaw Ghetto (from Patient Women...
- Save the date: "Endangered Music" at Los Angeles A...
- Winedark Sea
- revery about intoxicated turtles
- The Gospel According to Magdalene
- Unlikely Stories Tribute Issue for Michelle Greenb...
- LETTER TO LERMONTOV
- HE CALLED ME "FAT"
- TO THE THANATOS WITHIN ME
- Excerpt from PATIENT WOMEN
- My Trick Wants to Go to Plato's
- 560 Brooke Avenue, South Bronx
- Recording of my poem "Phylum" up at The Common Onl...
- Rain Taxi review of my translation of Victory over...
- Coverage for PATIENT WOMEN in OSM, the global citi...
- Rock and roll heaven: the visionaries
- Official press release for PATIENT WOMEN
- Text of my poems in Plume
- Two poems in Plume
- New Year's Resolution
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