FOR THE SHRIEKING CARDINAL AT MY WINDOW WHO I HATE, 2016
Loud little bloodstain
on the morning’s blue backdrop,
ruining my view,
ruining my morning
with his stupid mating call.
My upstairs neighbor
leans out of his open window
to say aww, he’s looking for love.
Man, me too.
But you don’t hear me
crying about it.
READING LORCA’S “POEMS OF SOLITUDE IN VERMONT” IN VERMONT, ALONE
Double sunlight from the reflecting snow,
this uninviting brightness keeping me
indoors. There’s nothing for me out there.
Not a single shadow to slip into, not
a solitary dead leaf to crawl under.
All that white is worse than green.