I am thrilled to have been awarded an NEA Fellowship. Great writers and careful readers have judged me worthy, and that is inspiring. Because I have only taught sporadically and I don't give many readings, I don't often get a sense of how I'm interacting with anyone who might read my poems. In the midst of a long, quiet stretch, having a positive response makes me feel that there are people listening. I am very grateful.
She lied. What you have made is good. So many gray clay pots were
proudly collected at the school gate. There is no one like you, My Darling.
Thin clouds hold the sharp heat off. Rocked in shallow swells, a drift of
minnows pulses. Suspicion hangs in monsoonal moisture. A swirl of pale
hair in the bay--pressing forward keeps the weight suspended.
Powdered, loose skin gives, cool against a kiss, receives, I love you, which
veils with a sheer fabric--I love you enough to lie.
At the edge of the Pacific, a speedboat wake taps the shore. The speckle of
shadow disperses; castles collapse into their tunnels, and a woman shakes her
sunburned boy, Where's your sister?
(Previously appeared in the anthology Bear Flag Republic)