Everything Twice Pinkened quince with potatoes, cold for breakfast. Stones by the door I’ve pocketed the last year. Too bright today to see the road. One blue for the sky,…
Here I am, seven years later, a “full-time writer.” I spend about half my time locked up in my apartment in the West End of Providence, Rhode Island, hunched over my laptop.
Rogue Benediction And we entered the Valley of the Rogue. And we slowed to a crawl. The night’s envelope sealed us in. After several hours, cars deep on the interstate,…
After Aftermath Orphaned boys plus my mean calculations. Orphan boys plus desire equals their long bodies. How they sucked summer-long water off a garden hose from beside the trailers. Their…
Embers of Smoldering Homes It is a major war from a manufacturing plant near Ciudad Juárez, a concrete dust smell from the maquiladoras cools. There is a pool of liquid…
The Great Loves of Our Lives Begin with the body desire manifests itself in the body: the flutter of the heart the nervous shake of a hand the dilation of…
War with Computers “We don’t make war with computers.” —Captain Kirk in Star Trek, “A Taste of Armageddon,” 1966 Now we hover at 5000 feet. It’s not a fair fight,…
Google Search: “Julie Marie Wade” I am dead in Mississippi— dead & Catholic. A cheerleading coach who passed suddenly on Wednesday night from “causes unknown.” In Oxford, they mourn with…
Astronomy of Fishes & Emily Dickinson (1986) One eye squeezed like a bag phone between shoulder & ear. Another eye stuck in a paper towel tube like it’s a telescope…