Avocado Secret
When the widow wrote
how her husband
once said she was like
a perfectly ripe avocado,
I wanted to rush right out
and buy one. Examine
its tough exterior,
creamy...
Tent
Sometimes in the morning,
before opening my eyes,
I dream of our tent,
that tiny green dome.
From behind its walls
thin as skin, I hear birds,
leaves, a brush...
Tossing away sandwiches,
chewing gum, cigarettes,
he made his heaven from wrappers,
commerce’s carapace. Who would discard
the meat of the thing: shake out
the book and bow to
the...
In the photo of the kitchen fire,
We are dressed for Christmas:
Me in a flammable hand-me-down jacket,
Her in her costume jewelry
And her Edward Scissorhands t-shirt.
The...
My father, tangled in the height of adolescence,
wept outside Old Saint Paul’s Church as spring died,
reading Desiderata. The poem lay inscribed
in rock at the...
True Story Metaphor for My Parents' Divorce
In this shrinking house, I am still growing,
my wrist gripped between window and sill,
one toe pinched in neat...
When I went to pick my daughter up at pre-school,
the kids were on the playground. Her teachers
eyed me uncomfortably and glanced across
the slide at...
Sunday Best
he blows dandelions for his babies in the corner store parking lotin their Sunday best, following this morning's sermontheir wishes scatter across the...
