Insomne
Azules sueños cruzan la habitación a oscuras
formando el rostro de las noches
en un cielo de humedad.
Alimenta el viento
la voz del aguacero,
surca mis oídos y...
I Cannot Be Your Quiet
All my years of blustery men and mewishing they’d stop whistling, cutting me off,tightening the tessitura of my voice.I never...
Folklore
Y’all heard the one where the Africans flewoff the plantation?
Ever bed-and-breakfast at Chesapeake Bay, ghostwalk Greenbriar Swamp to hear tale of “Big Liz,”the “heavyset”...
Modern Prometheus
“I doubted at first whether I should attempt the creation of a being like myself, or one of simpler organization; but my imagination...
