Archive for poetry

From my cell

Somewhere outside a man shouting his god’s judgment.

Somewhere outside the sun burning itself to the ground.

Somewhere outside flowers sheltering their pistils.

Somewhere outside the finger of a tree floating on the water.

Somewhere inside maggots squirm and feed.

Somewhere inside a severed head still speaks.

Somewhere inside a rusty nail pins the wings of a dove.

Somewhere inside the power cord for the fridge is tripped.

Somewhere inside a beetle’s mandibles gape wide.

Somewhere inside a thirsty well with no bottom.

Somewhere inside a labrynthe of broken wands.

Somewhere inside the gasping of a bee’s final fight.

Somewhere inside a gate is breached.

Somewhere inside a box i fear to open again.

Hafiz i am not (re-rendering of How does It Feel to be a Heart?)

The Hafiz poem, as translated by Daniel Ladinsky, is at

Once a young woman asked me,

“How does it feel to be a man?”

And i replied,

“I am not sure what you mean.”

Then she said,

“Well, aren’t you a man?”

And this time i replied,

“Am i a man if i wait in line to use the women’s restroom when there is no line to the men’s?

when, on the telephone, people assume that i am a woman?

when, in person, people are often uncertain of what my gender is?”

And the woman responded, “But you are a man.”

At this i replied,

“Is there a contest that one wins

for corralling somebody into a pen?

If you are seeking to know yourself

Do not look to me.

If you are seeking to know me

You do not know how to see.”