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Mockingbird

Anything can happen because everything happens in New York.

Monday or Tuesday

The heron returns; the sky veils her stars; then bares them.

Mooncakes

The knife in my mother’s hand flakes into penny-stained rust.

My First Boy

He would sneak into my room, we would have sex, he would sneak out.

My Mess of Conflicting Emotions

Though I’ve never killed anything myself, I’ve been complicit.

My Only Life

My shadow is cast by the paleness of a certain star.

Nativity from a Bus Window

Toe over toe we went, arms held out like tightrope walkers.

New Grub Street

He betook himself to the metropolis to become a literary man, of course.

New Year’s Weekend on the Hand Surgery Ward, Old Pilgrims’ Hospital, Naples, Italy

Ten years ago, when I was in college, my father divorced my mother and said he wanted me to become responsible for her. That is why I fled to Italy.

New York City

Nick Will Be Successful Influential & Will Marry the Pretty Girl and He Didn’t Even Go to Yale

The graffiti suggests the most essential story of New Haven.

Occupied

Riding back from her studio, Ivy thought, I’ll just stop for a minute.

October Phone Call and Other Poems

How many gods do you believe in? How many good men?

Odessa, Odessa

It is a city of sea, sun, boulevards, strolling beauties, life-altering food.

On Livelihood

“I always arrive late at the office, but I make up for it by leaving early.”

One Such as This

Later in the pale of dawn your hair brushed across my forearm.

Paris in the Dark

After the password was given, the question remained. My name.

Paris in the Twenties

Now he was all out of dreams, out of rage, expectations, and money too.

Paris Sketches

Paris, 1970

Doisneau might have eyed and shot us for how brazenly we kissed.

People (Interlude)

She was wanting to be noticed as a person not wanting to be noticed.

Photos from New Orleans

After moving, I began to look at the images and piece them together.

Poem in the Contemporary Manner

Why don’t we just get drunk and walk down the middle of Fifth Avenue.

Port of Lisbon

We drink to Nixon’s impeachment again, this time with the good stuff.

Portrait of the Cartoonist as a Woman

My mother taught me to rebel within the boundaries of acceptability.

Portraits, Landscapes, Scenes

Photo portraits, landscapes, and world scenes by Sandra Lloyd.

Portugal 2006

A clandestine participation through a soundless beauty.

Provenance

Every day I was forced to return to the one place I did not want to be.

Rapture Basement

I used to be known for the humor of my music, the lightness of touch.

Redemption Song, Part One

Ivan rolled his eyes, and looked at the sky like someone about to be martyred.