recent poem

Crisis Center

Just keep collecting data, she said,
as though that would bring answers, as though
something could be done in the end,
which meant paying attention to
the fringes of America, which meant
a lit candle on the shrine. It meant getting
out of a dark underground parking lot, and
leaving places without love where I go
like a magnet, where I awake with something
caught in my chest, something that refuses
to go. Just keep searching through the details,
she repeated, like all those wounded men
in wheelchairs headed for New Jersey
where I hope to take in an adolescent
black lab named Oliver—a defender of
noble causes, a heroic champion, one
of Charlemagne’s knights—because he is
beautiful and in need of a home. Surely
I will grow to love this orphaned stranger.

forthcoming:
"A Conversation on Leaving the University"
Assay: A Journal of Nonfiction Studies
Fall 2017

"Come Home in Glory"
Solstice Literary Journal
Fall 2017

poems in Easy Street
September 2017

poems in The Big Window
Oct. 6, 2017 and Nov. 9, 2017