Cloud Cuckooland, Aristophanes called it. Frank Lloyd Wright said the modern city was a place for banking, prostitution and very little else. He made prairie houses with Spartan walls and …

i mind is a night wing in the blind atmosphere that sprinkles the ground with its own dust. you are your own muscular witness in a wide station of wandering …

Just off the trail among the quills of the birches the porcupine had settled, comfortably into its final business. It looked like a fur hat abandoned in the snow melt …

Another spring cracks open on the rocks as the seagull drops living mussels on stone shore, alights to tear the flesh. I know the fierce gull. I know the creature …

yodelling for no one and / ignoring us, the collectors

The cat’s paw keeps getting bigger. Soon we will have to give it a name. At the vet, the young receptionists all laugh. Tell us it’s perfectly natural though they …

If every event on the calendar went sim-saima-sima-lo with dead leaves and a black boy and a black girl snaking their thighs towards dawn with or without moonlight falling on …

the light stretched and tangy, up on its horse and riding through the ripening meadows, buzzing the leaves and the birds who’ve been at it for hours. Light that in …