Category Archives: Miscellaneous

Back

I don’t know how to age a tree, without cutting it open to count the rings. This tree in front of the tan house, taller than its two stories, is it older than me? Did it once watch my yellow

Back

I don’t know how to age a tree, without cutting it open to count the rings. This tree in front of the tan house, taller than its two stories, is it older than me? Did it once watch my yellow

missing

Silver tresses fly wild and old bones bend double as she leans into the wind, wields hammer and chisel against a letter box, rusted shut. The question echoes each blow: How long since they’ve spoken? 

missing

Silver tresses fly wild and old bones bend double as she leans into the wind, wields hammer and chisel against a letter box, rusted shut. The question echoes each blow: How long since they’ve spoken? 

the rough

Come on, son, pull your head out of the bag. Keep moving. I know it hardly seems fair, the way she slices you. It’s rough how she hooks you, drags you screaming to the bunker. She’s given you the shanks

the rough

Come on, son, pull your head out of the bag. Keep moving. I know it hardly seems fair, the way she slices you. It’s rough how she hooks you, drags you screaming to the bunker. She’s given you the shanks

change

None seemed to feel when the earth turned over and spun the other way Sitting in rooms I wanted to leave I said words I wanted to stifle, heard answers I wanted to  swallow like bad medicine spewing back upstream When bedrock pitched

change

None seemed to feel when the earth turned over and spun the other way Sitting in rooms I wanted to leave I said words I wanted to stifle, heard answers I wanted to  swallow like bad medicine spewing back upstream When bedrock pitched

the beginning

You owe me a poem, she says, and bats smirky semi-colon lashes into a wink. Dang it, I slip. Her memory is like the fine ground edge of a kitchen cleaver honed sharp by a housewife’s desperation. A debt paid

the beginning

You owe me a poem, she says, and bats smirky semi-colon lashes into a wink. Dang it, I slip. Her memory is like the fine ground edge of a kitchen cleaver honed sharp by a housewife’s desperation. A debt paid