Clarissa on the roof Clarissa on the roof holds on to the lightning rod. People take her in their stride. After all, the villagers have seen it coming. “It started when her mum locked herself in and painted tsunamis.” “Yeah,... Continue Reading →
Iceland: Notes Left Out of a Travel Journal And in this isolation I remember the one who peeled my oranges, split them sacred. Farewell into my mouth when we were nineteen— aiming for unbroken, for nothing festooned, no rind, pith,... Continue Reading →
As Befitting Majesty Reclining in a lily slipper, a toad is halfway to a prince, already satin-mantled, high above the hoi-polloi, observing the stars wheeling in their courses, clouds threatening like nations before passing over. Small as he is, the... Continue Reading →
Green …the leaping greenly spirits of trees… e.e. cummings Green is the truest color. It does not lift its eyes too high. It does not hate like red, nor rage with orange nor put on purple’s kingly pretense, nor like... Continue Reading →
Soul Food Outside of this kitchen Their cold & battered flesh Seek out for my eyes To bring them warmth Life I got a pot of greens on my stove And a wooden spoon that never forgets My grandsons and... Continue Reading →
Playing Hearts at Uncle Doug's Those nights playing cards at Uncle Doug's the smoke-filled kitchen, the beagle at his feet. Aunt Elaine fills our glasses with Pepsi and hums Johnny Cash with the radio that plays low next to the... Continue Reading →
Poetry Breakfast 