"I try to hone a poem invested in memory and imagination to arrive at some deeper question of truth. ...I attempt to create threads that feel familiar, nostalgic even, but that still long for something speculative."

"I try to hone a poem invested in memory and imagination to arrive at some deeper question of truth. ...I attempt to create threads that feel familiar, nostalgic even, but that still long for something speculative."
RECENTLY PUBLISHED
He says: I want it to smell / like the real thing. // The real thing / is a landscape // of work and death–– / the names of our ancestors // slack in our mouths, / just the art of loving // your family line enough / to reproduce it.
look / we all become our worst stories / this is mine / I went
back / for more / nobody made me do that / I just hated being ignored
I’d come home from campus in the blue-black / dim of dinnertime, the air pummeling me awake from the daze
which made the poem / feel pretty far away, / though it was standing / in the middle of everything,