I know it wasn’t fair to those who dance below: Between our creaky stair Descends our nightly ghost. I’ve come to see my girl Her sister plays alone. Here in her deathly world Her grievance sings her song. What does she want from me? A willingness to die? Like Jesus on the tree, A needle …
Continue reading “A New Poem in Iambic Trimeter: Visiting Isis’ Sister”