September 2006

Falling to sleep last night in a deep crevasse
between one rough dream and another, I seemed,
still awake, to be stranded on a stony path,
and there the familiar enigma presented itself
in the shape of a little trembling lamb.
It was lying like...

even the business of dying must be set aside occasionally. glaucous-winged gulls drafting
the last ferry across the bay: lights of the city growing more luminous, more inviting

who could have guessed love's a palpable thing: a dark splotch of kelp in...

The whole day I hung around in the sky over Russia
was a Wednesday in October. No one looked up

with any semblance of regard from the heroic Russian people.
I had always wanted to visit the back streets

of Omsk,...