We Will Never Forget

We Will Never Forget

              What we remember most           was never real:           there was never a white van           but we feared it. Yes, he was           shooting, but no van, and           it wasn’t white, why           did we say otherwise?           You had to factor...
Christ’s Entry into Brussels in 1889

Christ’s Entry into Brussels in 1889

              When I pick up my 90-year-old father-in-law to drive him                                      to the early service           at Galilee Church, where he has gone for the last quarter                                        century, he hobbles...
Knot

Knot

              I stuffed your hair           in my jacket pocket.             Stroked its feathers and told stories           about a dark snorting horse             the birds watch and the flies heckle.           I still get the knots inside             when I stroke....
La Havre

La Havre

              My girlfriend and I on bicycles in foggy dusk           gratefully coasted downhill to Southampton docks           to take the ferry to France.             Week two of a three-month trip           so we still photographed everything:           us,...
Two Poems

Two Poems

    Grand Central            I thought of you today, Billy Collins,          in the subway changing trains          at the center of eight million poems          turning and turning                    like a tourist bewildered          under the clock inside the...
The Futility of Biography

The Futility of Biography

             Can she really be known, she whom we romanticize?          We can research her family tree, the number of children she bore          and with whom, the climate in which she lived—Did it rain a lot?          Was their social unrest? We can guess what kinds...
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