“First I had two men in my life,” she says. “Now I have no men in my life.” And I watch her adjusting a strap to keep her shoulder bare. It’s the aspiration of flesh to beauty that is keeping us alive. Cool and warm pastels above her bare arm, warm red

My usual angel fell from the ceiling and onto the couch.

it is a wonder that we are speakingyou and iafter the fall season felt hopeful.Now the words mean nothingmy fairy has taken a vacationand women sleep with men in nice suits.

no one told him there was a place where heroes died, but he should have known it was in love

Mary Jo told me to hire somebody to marry us in a ceremony in the living room up at the house on Fairlawn. This was to take place in two days. Her divorce was final, and she had to get married or else it was all over for her child custody. I guess I was

My memory is like tracks in the snow. My memory is cookie dough. My memory is dirty tube socks.

A.The poem of rational progression is dulling.Make the leap. Go beyond juxtaposition to collision.We like poetry that does double duty, triple duty, quadruple duty. We like poetry that mixes the grit, poetry that has the texture of complexity.Reason asserts an…

The cabinets in D’s kitchen are a pantry of unusual sounds. It is where they are stored.

the cracks in the concrete look like rivers or highways crossing from the air but only a few feet below me

Long ago, when I was a child, like you, my grandfather told me about the wind. He pointed to a willow whose branches were dancing in the breeze and asked me what I heard. “Just the wind,” I answered. He smiled and ran his hand acr

Testing how well he navigates She didn't think he would find it

I'd had way too many drinks. My legs were quivering. Everyone had gathered there in the kitchen, my sleek and attractive ex-wife the center of attention, all the men fucking drooling over her. Seems she was a yoga queen now, a vegan princess, a dancer somewhere. She…

We are / packed in a speck of dust / adrift across the universe, / revolving an ember.

She sold bottles of happiness at the marketplace. She woke up at dawn every morning to capture rays of happiness in the air. She would jump and let her fingers thread through each ray before sorting them into bottles. She always added a red ribbon to the tops of each…

Remote notary publics, or "remotaries" for short, are finding themselves increasingly busy as hikers and climbers seek help by cell phone or personal digital assistants from mountain peaks and white-water rafting trips.