Peter Streckfus Poems

Where am I.
A window, blinds half opened, the maple and beautybush and smilax catching
the lamplight, nodding as if a silent chorus. Beyond, the flood of the nothing
...

There is fire in the beginning—without it, we thought, we could not see one another.
After only months, a scorched foothill, but covered in evergreen heather.
...

Like a silvery fish pulled out of the dark water.
And so the opportunity for confusion
or clarity is intensified seven times.
...

Last night, my father came to my dreaming
self in the form of a vampire.
A vampire's position is liminal—
...

Come to the surface of the screen with your piscine light
and oxygen holes and press for moments
...