VQR Online

My grandfather’s right eye was a frozen slab
of milk-white ice that light never thawed
and when he slept, the lid didn’t drown
the curse of its constant stare.

did it come in the bark of a dog
in the eucalypt air,

the marsupial faces tilted, listening,
or the ghostly skin and the foreign hair,

There are those that in the distance seem a swarm of gnats
those that with their barking try to rally us in a campaign against the stars
those that torment their prey

In 1768, Benjamin Franklin, then postmaster general of England’s colonies in America, was presented with a mystery: why were British packet ships sailing from Falmouth, England, to New York regularly taking two weeks longer to reach their...

Like wallabies we hurtle
This way and that
Unworried whether the world
Be round or flat.

He was an example of anti-nominal determinism,
though he was friendly in manner, kindly
explaining that my light headedness

In some last inventory, I’ll have lost a season,
through the occlusion
of summer by another hemisphere.

Under the Miami skyline, beneath bits of trash collected at the margin of the Florida current, a tiny female creature struggles on a warm, moonless night in April. She is only six millimeters long, opaque, with a head larger than her body...

Across three fences
the lights and noise of a party at anchor;
a paddock dusty
with stars; our lit-up talk
 forgettable.

A summer rain front laces a trailing hat of mist
around the headland’s mountain: a saucer of mist
scraping the treetops    hanging over rock outcrops