Poems

The New Yorker – “Early snow. Garbage/trucks in the alley…”

Poetry – “René and I are doing some limb work/on the tree out front…”

Oxford American – “I already found/a job but I can’t break the habit//of hunting.”

The New Yorker – “I held him together/as long as I could…”

The Atlantic – “Better than the minivan you slept/a winter in…”

American Poetry Review – “The heart weighs 360 grams.”

Yale Review – “I pull the last radishes/then bed the boxes down//with hay.”

Poetry Daily – “When you showed up drunk as hell, humming/tunelessly to yourself…”

Essays

Literary Hub – “I’ve been using my writing to hustle a life: a place to live, a salary, some measure of stability. But poetry resists those interests. It’s not about hustling. It’s not about productivity. It’s not even, in the end, about making anything.”

Literary Hub – “The only way to get him down on the page is to haul him hand over hand out of that place I can access only when I don’t insist— like that rift between sleeping and waking, where reality and invention have equal gravity.”