Contents
Invoke | Revoke
As the West Coast Burns (I)
Genesis
A Power Comes Up Between the Voices
Sonnet Two Blocks from a Strip Mall
The Poet Wanders Between Memory and Dream
Eve Speaks of Her American Childhood
A Poem Changes Nothing
Sonnet Ending in People’s Park
Wood | Word
The Summer Before My Baptism, We Go Backpacking in Eastern Oregon
Animalia
Rain, Wind, Thunder, Fire, Daughter
As the West Coast Burns (II)
The Poet Learns About Particle Physics
Prophet | Profit
Sonnet with a Mouth Full of Dollar Bills
Mapping the Channeled Scablands
A Ponderosa Pine Reader
A Classical Christian Academy
I Place My Mother in a Scripture
Phonics
As the West Coast Burns (III)
Double Sonnet with My Shirt Off
Bridal | Bridle
A Feminist Field Guide
Wedding in America
Psalm Sleeping Between Circles & Lines
The Poet Forgets James 3:6
Sonnet Starting with Arson
The Poet Parses the Haze
Virginity: A Chronology
Exodus
As the West Coast Burns (IV)
After Moving to Virginia, Alone
The Poet Rethinks Her Profession
This Belief, This Window
Cognitive Dissonance
Limbo
Sightseeing in the Pandemic
None of the music I know is for only one voice
Self-Portrait as Diorama of a Room at Dusk
Nostalgia as Match Factory with Women Inside
Awaiting the Apocalypse in Old Dominion
Sonnet with Dante, E.T., and Ted Berrigan
Incantation for the Anthropocene
As the West Coast Burns (V)
Meet-Cute in the Anthropocene
Extended Sonnet with Turkey Vultures
After the IUD insertion, i go camping in West Virginia
On Seral Stages and Falling in Love
Poem in which i erase god’s name from the New Testament
The Field of Particles Where i Fall
Religious Trauma
My father asks, “How do you define love apart from God?”
The Lyric “I” Goes Shopping at Trader Joe’s
A Middle-Class Pastoral
An Apostate’s Abecedarian
Ode to the lowercase “i”
As the West Coast Burns (VI)
As if i could speak for the trees.
Matins
Fire Map: California, Oregon, and Washington
A Short Catechism
When we met, we were being paid
Woman who escapes Santiam Fire on foot loses her mother and son to the flames
Litany to Be Recited by My Hands
A Brief Lesson in Rimming
Only a Quarter of Species May Survive the End of the Century
Forty miles south of my parents’ house, a wildfire decimates the small town of Malden and consumes thousands of acres of wheat
As the West Coast Burns (VII)
Notes
Acknowledgments
About the Author