Yardley, Pennsylvania, an expensive dump and the van seats shake their broken bones. Duty-free liquor and cigarettes, the refineries and the harbor's cranes. The moon digs its way out of the dirt. The branches of an evergreen sway. She's nice the woman you don't love. She kisses you hard and often holding
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| type | name |
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|---|---|---|
| Literary Magazine | The Gettysburg Review | Pennsylvania |
| Small Press | Carnegie Mellon University Press | Pennsylvania |
| Literary Magazine | Brilliant Corners | Pennsylvania |
| Literary Magazine | The Fourth River | Pennsylvania |
| Small Press | Autumn House Press | Pennsylvania |
| Literary Magazine | American Poetry Review | Pennsylvania |
| Literary Organization | Ligonier Valley Writers | Pennsylvania |
| Conference | Bucknell Seminar for Younger Poets | Pennsylvania |
| Writing Program | Temple University | Pennsylvania |
| Writing Program | Penn State University | Pennsylvania |
poems
poem
2010
poem
2001
We find out the heart only by dismantling what the heart knows. By redefining the morning, we find a morning that comes just after darkness. We can break through marriage into marriage. By insisting on love we spoil it, get beyond affection and wade mouth-deep into love. We must unlearn the constellations to see
poem
1982
In all these rotten shops, in all this broken furniture and wrinkled ties and baseball trophies and coffee pots I have never seen a post-war Philco with the automatic eye nor heard Ravel's "Bolero" the way I did in 1945 in that tiny living room on Beechwood Boulevard, nor danced as I did then, my knives all
