The things we do for love
A wife a mother a moth her wings whaling against the kitchen window. He loves her which is why he builds two knotted shutters that close…
Chorus of Nettles
You young men, you guns and shovels digging your perfect country in the loam, you do not yet know what it is to cluster, to break along a…
Inland Sea
She did not want me to see her riding her sad whales through the green waves. She told me this as I helped her…
Small Music
The dog’s bark slips through the wall of the house—a large dog, I can tell, and lonely. Maybe she turns in circles on her rug. Maybe she settles…
As if night knew and understood it had no hands,
a blacksnake crossed the gravel in the afternoon, moving from one field to the other, undulant across the road and eventually ending. The earth, when dust under its muscles,…
Squall Line Stalling in a Memory of Rain
A sidewalk begins to spot, then the odor of wet canvas comes, and peat. Oils on the surfaces of rocks are released. Papers, piled near window sills or screens,…