Category: Poem
Fire Weather
(for David Gardella) my friend once made an ocean passage so seasick he could only lie on his bunk...
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Consciousness
Strange flame of neurons firing inside the helmet of my head, full of knowing, sights royal,...
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Walks on the Boundary Line (Waterways)
When I was seven years old, during a summer in Madison, Wisconsin, I spent an afternoon following...
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Tunnel (Waterways)
Plunging into Lincoln Tunnel, my daughter stares at the yellowing tiles, empty glass booths...
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River (Waterways)
Standing in the front room, unable to remember why I came here, perhaps for a notepad, I...
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Where You Still Need a Dashboard Radio
There’s a feud of channels in these hills, vestigial, spare, like an old man’s thatches,...
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This Prisoner
This Prisoner Words and music by James Livingston. I wrote this “break-up poem”...
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What It’s Like
I miss you like an old man misses the red-faced lad who cut his grass for years before his...
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