The Home We Will Remember I am born in the black hills of eastern Kentucky to a young woman from the Gulf Coast of Texas who sews...

My little sister is beautiful.She has our father’s eyes, brown.Her mother’s skin—light, blinding. Something in her skin draws meand I look like a confused scribble,a...

Fishing Poem The grandfather I never knew fished for hornpout in a pond I heard about but never saw. There my mother’s family spent summers, less...

Waiting to Cross a Busy Road I am trying to cross a busy road at a spot with no crosswalk for miles and miles and miles and miles but...

To the Poet—S. K.— on Channel WNET-13 Your unexpected radiance lightens the gloom in Brooklyn. You hunch; you sit by the sea. Rumbling like the rumpled waves, your voice splashes me....

The divorce. The final chapter of our union tells of bone deep chagrin- the dumb utter of 'I feel statements' plays itself like a mantra, useless invocations found in the crumpled leaflets from...

Dog Pack  The dog loves the woman. I think of Thumper (dumbass name) named by dumbass couple, Bedford, NY. She didn’t need no lousy name. I don’t need a word, she...