Oni Buchanan Poems

I'm writing to you from the loneliest, most
secluded island in the world. I mean,
the farthest away place from anything else.
...

I approached the luminous stranger who came to me
from darkness in a gown of lettuce leaves, in a velvet
...

Today Mr. Rufo died. During a game of bocce ball,
he leaned on his friend's shoulder and died.
Just five minutes before we found out, Jon and I
had been walking with our dumb, bourgeois fruit smoothies,
...