Ads “JOIN THE DMV! BUY OUR ORGANIC SALSA!” Burning on filthy subway walls Jerking back, muttering “it’s too bright,” Train coming, train coming A long silver bullet blasting through...

Awakening in Poesy Town This morning I rose from my bed, as if from between the sheets of the New Yorker, the world random as free verse. Today...

Pas de Deux   In our choreography, Dad and I had three types of dance: the shower, the stairs, and the car. The shower’s dance was a slow kabuki-   like...

If John Waters Hung Out in Reston He’d live in our townhouse, with the filthiest bathroom alive— a rust hole in the sink so big it’ll...

Minute shards of glass settle upon the bar counter like finely milled powder The barkeep smiles at no one in particular as if born an automaton No warmth offered...

Doors locked, we hide the keys Jeans frayed across the knees On our backs beneath the stars Basking in an autumn breeze   She spies Polaris, points out Mars They’re...

All the silenced, all the neglected, all the invisible This is not utopia. This is a borderland. This is south of the borderland. This is not...

This morning we stand at the seawall, my dancing daughter and I. As I circle her with my arm and lean my head against her, I know...

Odd. Just plain odd. No other word for it. It’s hard to see, against the backdrop of beech and brush at the edge of the river. Fisherfolk...

In August heat, the urge to be misplaced can find you standing on the sidewalk, disoriented, holding someone else’s photos by mistake. Trying to place that cottage,...