Water spirals clockwise or not depending on hemisphereThis too is rumor. Like home, like country.Mythology is rife with images of exile — serpent of firegorging wax, palace aflame like a…
nothing apparently is imminent, but the extra weight; the hair increasingly, if not the texture, then the hue of the bristles in the wire brush you used to scrape the…
Always the twilight: a burning car crash. Always the car crash towed away by the moon. Always the stars gather and grind their way to some rhythm we think we…
It was early March—not yet spring, but not entirely winter—when you stopped eating. There were still traces of snow on the ground when you stopped talking. O inverno limpa os…
Crazy Shoes When I was in my twenties I had all kinds of crazy shoes. Sandals with six-inch cork platforms that wobbled. Rope-soled espadrilles with laces that criss-crossed up my…
It sounds like Pat’s building an ark in the garage, but he’s tearing apart a cedar shelf so we have wood for the bonfire, ‘cause it’s almost nighttime in North…
No, I am not as old as the wilting membrane of earth – the skin of her secrets, too tightly breast-held and leaky. No, I am not as old as…
A Pecha Kucha Those in the know have spoken so: the “R” months are for ordering our oysters. May, June, July and August show us R-starved risk and rife red-tide…
From the nightmare we wake to the dream before we open our eyes to reality I fear I fret I freeze I forge I face I forget I love you,…
I was three years old, the youngest of three, when my father passed away in Rawalpindi, Pakistan. I have no recollection of him. Any remainders are memories of memories, or…
My father has always preferred menthol cigarettes, from his first preteen puff on a Kool to the cherry he smoldered atop his Camel this morning. When I was a kid,…
Between contractions, Annabelle watched the shadows flicker across the ceiling. Candles were impractical for an event such as this, but the electricity had gone out yet again, and the Morrison…
I’m never afraid of what’s ahead unless it’s a mirror showing me what’s behind I don’t fear monsters, I fear stoves I don’t fear muddy boots, I fear house slippers…
It’s not just that feeling of escaping something that opens up your chest, or the closure that lends rhythm to seasons of life: after spring, the long slow breath. After…
undeath is in creation / and the degloving of hands / digging up of pale yellow talisman / kiss of moonlight through the willow branches / fade / d /…
We are pushing sixty. Like snails, when we bloom out of ourselves to spy the garden through our blindness we are dancing slowly, alert to the flaming intentions of the…
It’s mid-morning when I walk the back road. Sunlight speckles through the leafy branches, its warmth burning the dew off ferns. And then I hear the coyotes call from deep…
The blackbirds and the mourning doves that haunt the backyard feeder have me thinking need, the burning fuse that drives us all. And even though right now it’s wan and…
i told my children the silence is very clear there is less sorrow in the world than there could be we are upon the fog and not under it we…
i told my daughter there is a small song a loose skin a lip bend an obvious note or two in every day that could be folded into the minutes…
The night before, Lauren had stayed at Timothy’s apartment despite an agreement they’d reached after a few weeks’ negotiation (with sullenness, with wine, with tears) that “they were on hold,”…
Mijo, if you are to be water in a river, be the kind that sinks deep into the soil, that marries the roots of live oaks on the bank, gives…
I’ve read of people who measure light as it refracts through holes and sprays patterns on a screen, a probability wave, the numbers a kind of mathematical Christ. If you…
An inner coming away, beginning over again, an outer rending, cracked in twain. Thin, flaky crust of earth pie, four and twenty red-wings rise to cerulean sky. A birth, a…
