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Maria met her husband in World War Two. Maria is now eighty-two. She is from the country of Tuscany. She has lived in may countries. She was a war bride. She has a son. Maria's son is sixty-three. As a baby-boomer he won't retire until sixty-five Maria says.…
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130300
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His senses were heightened. The scratching on the table with his finger nails, intense nervousness, the noise magnified every second, the ball point pen was piercing into his sweaty palm.
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130340
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Your clothes had been burned and your skin washed. They kept your boots at my firm insistence. I saw them write your name on the card. The card was black, and the ink was black. The writing was shallow and scratchy. The box they filed the card into was black and so…
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130300
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Many colored eyes move slow
between the mirror and my heart,
begging questions.
I offer no explanation.
None suffice to breed either my content or theirs.
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130330
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this orient tide come occident: this roll of wreck and reckoned eyes that fathomless are found or made to find her keep within the tight shut shell in soundings deeper than the plumblined soul these western waves gone east: these…
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130341
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A woman I work with is always going on about her daughter is an expert water-skier and has a collection of antique thimbles and makes prize-winning congo bars.
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130341
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And so, many ideas and stories and wonders crash onto the shores of my conscience...
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1303129
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Where the Story LiesEverybody wants to knowwhere the story lies. Does itlie in childhood? Does it liein old age? Does it lie in anangry outburst or a stingingrebuke? Does it lie in a momentof compassion or in the recognitionof calloused selfishness? Bruisedlove or…
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130332
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Rain dressed for winter, a win, she thought
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130373
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To understand how and when things have gone wrong, it works best to proceed from the beginning and put them in order.
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130200
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Even raw as she looked coming out of the jail, the woman left echoes.
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130231
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st. paul is steeped in fog.
mist and rain make the north side a grainy
faded photograph, almost timeless.
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130210
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Lupe drove. She didn't know where she was going, but still she drove. The Mustang whined because she did not shift gears. The street was wet from a night rain and if…
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1302102
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So, once, we were all like sitting around the kitchen table, and it was so kind of like an okay sort of day to begin with. We were all like a secret theater of strangers, a living children's secret circle, meeting right in…
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130230
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They take the blue man out on a stretcher, stiff in cyanotic repose until the paramedics shake him. He sits bolt upright, startled, confused, indignant. ‘Lazarus?' I ask. ‘Argyria. Happens every fucking time he naps on the …
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130242
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Urban skunks want to visit your neighborhood and be bold in your neighborhood.
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130211
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That night Magdalene dreamt about Jesus.
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130265
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"Time is an ocean, but it ends at the shore. You may not see me tomorrow."--Bob DylanThey're writing poems, but not for me. Guess I'll write one for my own. For nobody that I know now. It's a pretty lonely world for someone who sings, not you, not with…
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130221
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Listening for a chain saw with one ear and to Todd and the trooper with the other, I’m trying to hustle up and finish my business - sweating in my coat and sweatshirt - and I think this: not so silly now, is it, this invisible or being able to fly choice?
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1301106
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Mothers and sons and war, an old story...
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130111
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"Take the other arm, Jonas! Take the other arm," I said, laughing. "Make me a better god!"
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130133
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a midge smothered
in the light of disarray
crawls back into the sage
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130100
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130153
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He went for long, quiet walks. These seemed to quell the seething rages swirling about him as he exhumed and reconstructed the truth of himself.
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130120
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That September, he had enjoyed drinks in the company of now-dead utopians.
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130155
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130154
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proper words fail to get proper points across . . . truthful words have no beauty,/beautiful words have no truth.
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1301141
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The author's note explains...
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130153
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Meagan rides the subway with perfect lips and deep thoughts, looking moody out the smudged window like an actress in a Sofia Coppola film.
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130133
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The sun was a dish of burnished courage
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