Nature’s first green is gold,

Now I begin to know at last,

Shagged-gold, at rest the great haunches

Here in the decomposed granite

spread out along the olive tree like a drawn bow.

Work out. Ten laps.

Voice escalates in these spare songs

How could I not?

How dare you!

A Deaf Blind poet doesn’t like to read sitting up. A Deaf Blind

It is day infinity

You’ve never seen a lilac in Mississippi.

You let your shirt hang down

I don’t love you as if you were a rose of salt, topaz,

Crip (noun): slang for a disabled person / the whole of the disabled community / a school of thought

I have built a machine to visit the stars.

Today four little robins

You are smaller than I remember

My itinerary is the eternity of exile.

It was the prophets and the seers, they were the ones