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...
The hives have gotten through another year—
I’m sure you’ve heard of the alternative.
Buy soon and you can have the Holsteins here.
No guarantee of how...
Immaculate Ruins
It begins with a stranger’s cautious agreementto get lost for a while in the ruins of you, playing
sentinel from the love seat’s worn...
