Dead End Life’s routine is like a straightaway on a country roadOn and on, beyond our sight, it continuesand sometimes looking down that road makes...

A Psychological Asana For today, or maybe even an hour, or nolonger than the time it takes to read this poem,put aside “profession” as another...

Firmware There are times when I seeSomething odd, likeA purple satin bra on a yellow fire hydrant on a street cornerOr an antique white bassinet...

Dangers I am sitting under the treemy great-grandparents planted,together, the day he went to war. Strangers own this house now and werenonplussed or moved by my...

Altar-ed oath  MarchThe muscularity of your siloed silhouette laid itself on my shadowy desk one day,with white open palm on my tan arm—as if...

I Called You Orion when you were in my belly,small as a grapefruit seed.Within the dark of my wombyou shone of your own constellation-star glow-growing...

Control When my computer’s platformfor attending virtual meetings crashed,and my IT specialist recommended I give control,I eagerly abdicated. Cursor moved as though on autopilot,clicked here and...

Who Shot J.R.? I was very young,but I remember all the adultstalking about it. Who Shot J.R.?they would ask each other. I did not know who J.R....

Brackish Marsh In the brackish marsh,I am a dog in a duck’s eye,more jester than jockey,more joker than juror.When beavers danceI am a goat in...

It is not quite accurate to say Lola is growing old for she has always been old, teetering in and out of lifetimes. Each...