The Tub Story

April 22, 2015
I mean to say: the first time I realized I would die, I was in the bath.   You don’t believe me because this is all too asked and answered, all and then I learned, but here are facts:   My mother sat on the closed-lid toilet. I had yelled for her. When my face got »

Octavian Love Letters

April 11, 2014
Hail. Everybody hail Augustus. Augustus, who didn’t need glasses; Augustus, my friend. Augustus and I haven’t spoken in ten years, and he is not missing.  * Augustus was all this and he was no dream.  I saw him, was with him. Augustus, does he notice me? Something dark rustles and shakes the bushes. We don’t »

Makrocosmos III Music for a Summer Evening

March 22, 2014
Even then, we were cold. Joseph knew it so he started a fire in the basement after dinner, our whole family watching The Godfather. We are sailing from under the ship’s deck, the furnace room. His head and eyelids bobbing as a needle with a thread, stitching in the points of light—the eleven stars, the »