Tuesday, June 26, 2007

first cicaida--
calloused feet
on hot cement

Thursday, June 21, 2007

premature birth
the moonflower opens
at sunset

Monday, June 4, 2007

Turkish moon--
losing my balance
on the squat-toilet

Sunday, June 3, 2007


Dusty July fence-post shade, Horned Toads copulating—scale and claw interlocked. She, twice his size, pancake belly waiting to knit calcium into white leather. Twitch, swish, a flash of pink—still—hunker down big sharp beak flying over. An A-10 wing takes off from Davis Monthan Air Force Base, laboring over my yard in twos and threes. My house, just four miles north of the runway—I hear them coming even before they are airborne. Every day, all day, all night, until they go to the other desert. One hundred and eighteen degrees, JP-8 purged before an emergency landing. Ants build volcanic cones, bringing grain after grain of gravel to the surface, and sometimes the redness of a garnet among the granules of sand. Sunset, licking ants from their eyes, studded backs melting into desert camouflage.

A-10s rumble over--
the dull, red splatter
of anthill garnets

Autumn Moon

Friday, June 1, 2007

at the sake factory
silver moths take flight

Autumn Moon