This is from Want from the wonderful Sarabande Books.
When any word is called for, say that I am of.
When the tornado forms, that is the ruinous
kiss. When the bamboo-green field sways,
think of tea. When the vines thicken in
the heat, this is the medusa head consuming
its own stare. When a man commitedly
steps to the ledge, this is the daguerreotype's
cold glass face. [...]
Barot, a teacher at PLU and Tacoma resident, is one of the most skillfully subtle poets I know. His eye is keen, his mind searching, and his words shimmer on pages.