this is a living, breathing poem – last updated: Sept 13, 2025
grieving is for the living
grief is constant/ revision
she is
coming soon
more oracles
more bumper stickers about dying
a tryptic of living, dying & the ferry
when he cannot sleep I
travelers, where will we sleep
when I dream of my brother I wake up/
he is like a son to me
hold his ghost against me, a child. all knees & blonde hair
I knew you first.
what to do with no headstone. the monument, everywhere *
*
* *
* *
I saw the movie everyone liked
* so what is wrong with me?
In dreams we saw one another/ legs fell open like pages, eager *
. *
we climbed into one another/
and we waited by the window *. *
we grew up **
.
*
* through the years/ we all will be together if the fates allow
Rain fell off god’s tongue / the hundred year flood stuck to the windowsill. * *
Air
W
AIR
24
HOURS
AIR AIR
AIR AIR
In August I turned my back on sleep
* every photo was a photo of my son, every
starved infant I saw and I saw and still the rain came /
I felt us falling farther / an individual reality in each eye
hair loss, ocular migraine, hives, dry skin