The Sound of the Crashing

Memoir
  Who’s to say what prompted this. Who’s to say if this display of bodily might, this performance of scorned womanhood, is justified, justifying some wrongdoing, some emotion repressed. The…

The Blue Bull of Bayou Bonne Chance

Fiction
  Maidencane isn’t half as elegant as it sounds. Not even close. When I came across the plant’s name in a copy of Gulf Coast Flora I had checked out…

In Reno

Fiction
  In Reno, coyotes toss half-dead rabbits in the air with their mouths while the pack yips and sings. Emily watches them and listens. The rabbits tumble and spin in…

On Skyline Boulevard

poetry
  As we snake up through redwoods into the thickening gold haze, my brother the firefighter wonders how long to get a first responder out here, where the sheer gravel…

Easter 2016

poetry
  We go to Golden Gate Park to have a picnic. Find a patch that is empty, our clearing. Don’t realize until a ball almost bursts the bottle of Bulleit…

Morning Begins with Dark

poetry
  thunderstorms forming, kids out of school and off to camp, brand new ringtones loaded on phones. Another famous overdose, another fading star on trial, a governor-gone-wild all sexier stories…