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POETRY: 2022
Poems published in literary journals in 2022
Published in Clementine Unbound,
September 6, 2022
That even in this wrenching
week that has taken so much,
and always, there is movement,
bits of life that stutter and grow,
or quietly hum along, as they should
Published in Panoplyzine,
Summer 2022
I was thinking about hungry birds
and spring and the returned fever
of my daughter but these things
do not inspire hope
so her sister suggests music
Published in MSU Libraries
Short Edition,
Summer 2022
Each decade, or sooner,
I've been granted a fresh chance
to master the art of illness.
Published in MSU Libraries
Short Edition,
Summer 2022
The science was there,
in the chemo cocktail that dripped
into me for 5 days each month,
a regimen my body bucked
and fought until the drugs won.
Published in Wordgathering,
Summer 2022
I dressed her in a white sari
and painted her nails,
but I do not remember
her name.
Published in Feral Poetry,
June 30, 2022
I did not see the granola bar
until I arrived at work
and rummaged through
my bag for lipstick or a tissue.
Published in New Note Poetry,
Summer 2022
Each breath
breath
beating breath
sucks
in
the thin
air
Published in New Verse News,
June 24, 2022
Had my life but stood
a loaded gun, I might have
roamed these sovereign states
with ease and in the open.
Published in Pendemics Journal,
Spring 2022
This month is known
for the unflinching bind
of life and death. My Aprils
have crescendoed into despair,
each more deafening than the last.
Published in Pendemics Journal,
Spring 2022
She learned in the early 90s
that the sidewalks of New York
are not flat, taking her handheld
level to the pavement to find
how hard it was for the weakened
still beautiful men to walk the avenues
Published in New Verse News,
May 25, 2022
Can you see it?
The shredding of precious
organs, of slim muscles and growing
bones, of smiles and baby teeth,
of dimples and pinky promises,
when weapons meant for war
open fire on 40- and 50-pound
children crouching under desks,
Published in New Verse News,
May 5, 2022
My daughters and I live in a leaky
old house. The three of us have
learned how to handle a plumbing
emergency, to spring into action,
sop up the mess, cut the water lines,
track the source, mend the seams.
Published in Autumn Sky Poetry Daily,
April 11, 2022
As spring arrived once more,
the death calls petered out.
We made it through a full year,
just barely, and survived.
Published in Autumn Sky Poetry Daily,
February 11, 2022
I’ve come to think of this virus as a mad villanelle,
like Sisyphus staggering up that hill under his stone
each week tumbling backward into hell.
Published in MockingHeart Review,
Winter 2022
One year into the long tail of this virus
I find things I do not recognize,
veins bulging that once lay flat, flacid pouches
where muscle lived and flexed, fine lines
and crepe-draped skin puckering