Poetry is my protection against terror.
It fortifies no wall but collapses the one
behind which I find myself cowering.
I’m embarrassed to find myself there.
Poetry is every word in the question,
What are you afraid of?
It leads me outside.
Poetry is my protection against terror.
It fortifies no wall but collapses the one
behind which I find myself cowering.
I’m embarrassed to find myself there.
Poetry is every word in the question,
What are you afraid of?
It leads me outside.


My love has held nothing in place –
and has itself, some of it, gone
to where love and time decompose
in a field of stars and glass.




You’re not made of sugar, she says
when it’s raining.
She can see me not melting.