header login

PEN American Center

October 23, 14

He "died" "in the" battle, then fear / "And" sadness infected my milk / "My" baby "died," "on" "the" boardwalk / I "died" when "you" / Turned "your" car into "the" crowd, "I / Died" "in" a cage Read More  »

October 15, 14

First an army destroys a temple, the limbs of men and statues are demolished, their names disappear, the soldiers become a hero, then a number, then a statue is re-erected to pay homage to all the fallen, a parade drums by. Fireworks deafen our...Read More  »

October 8, 14

He knew that a planet, too, wanders, open, in a field of asters. And watched / the terror vanish, falling with the trees into darkness. You walk the dark to recall // a specific point in an argument in which you saw something delicate / fall apart...Read More  »

October 1, 14

Red sky on bad TV tonight / on furniture, on skin, / I’ll remember this like it was / yesterday somewhere else, / like I was another woman / who’d done time in a park / where pink repeating flowers were / birthed at the crowd... Read More  »

September 29, 14

You are the ruin whose arm encircles the young woman / at the posthumous bar, before your death. Read More  »

September 29, 14

We fill pre-existing forms and when we fill them we change them and are changed. Read More  »

September 29, 14

—Is it bitter? Does her soul / tell her / that she was an idiot ever to think / anything / material wholly could satisfy? Read More  »

September 25, 14

I was immortal in my ability to be knocked down / and spread myself out to take the punch again. / In this sense I am still a mother. / I am forever taking the punch in the gut. / No one asked for my consent. Read More  »

September 19, 14

The body took paths through waste-land woods / followed her back to the apartment / Her body / hid from its parents / Forgot its sisters / Bathed / each morning as though performing ritual Read More  »

September 17, 14

Unrested we said to others to leave / us pleased, not far along our track, still much // we want, half the slower good death / of cities too off your bristling map. Read More  »

Pages