“And I’ll greet them, marveling at their reawakening…”
I wanted to write the book that I’d been looking for my entire life and never found.
“DuRant’s poems skirmish at the fraught edges of language, winning ground page by page “in a battle to claim turf where tongues can hold their own.” ”
Once, I was your other heartbeat, your deepest
center. You were the world I was and knew.
After—all your life—I thought I was unlike
you: the you I liked, and otherwise.
Spring has shifted the year’s
Uneven balance and the light
Spreads even as dawn adjusts…
“Soon, several hundred sated, well-lubricated,
Turkish towel donning friends or strangers
will begin to filter out from the labyrinth
of thin-walled, cramped, private cubicles.”
“There are nights when across the bay we can see
Lights pressing the form of a certain small town.”