Psaltery & Lyre



Jonah Complex

I am stuck / as a minnow in a child’s little bucket. / I’m being carried, sloshing, back / to someone else’s mother

On Florida backroads, heaven

grows at an angle / from the earth    serpentine     moss / adorns its low bent


Three swans spin slowly on the water. I am seated / on the nearby patchy dirt and see / jagged mountains scratch up together.

Book Review: Took House, by Lauren Camp

Opening with hunger and appetite, Took House, an alluringly haunting poetry collection, invites the reader to the table to dip in and out of love, obsession, and what remains hidden.

Donar’s Oak

On a tree-thick road snaking towards a thatched-roof village Boniface had asked a little wench: How big is Gaesmere? Finally, he had almost preached his way out of the land of the Saxons and into Hessia. How heavy is the trunk, how close to Heaven does it reach?

The Pandemic Pages (Excerpt)

I am doing the dishes for the millionth time. And the word weary keeps repeating in my head. It catches itself on a lyric.


feast of a million small creeks

A World Not Gentle

I never wrote the poem, though I wanted to, / where I wished to steal Stern’s phrase— / “the world at last a meadow”—for no reason / other than to speak again its genius and beauty


I am a carrion bird circling over you: / see my flashing feathers? / I can caw / and caw

Create a website or blog at

Up ↑