Scenes from the FutureAt ease in the sweat-slick stick of black summer, I peel my bare thighs from the plastic that has banded red stripes across my pale and freckled skin. The bounce of my laugh echoes-someone passes me the can that drips cool relief to my knees ( Read more... )

ShelvingPaperbacks, their spines fanned, pages ( Read more... )

Maurine

They tucked her memory between
my names, a stone I was expected
to carry forward, to keep safe
-gleaming.  They gave me her
provenance to maintain.

“Diamonds are strong,”
Mom writes in sloping cursive.
“Wear it and remember.”
 In my head she is soft and square-jawed,
dressed in an ill-fitting grandma suit. 
She is sick and smiling.
Dad shows me a ( Read more... )

Experimenting with Karma

I stole a pint glass
from a pub in Delaware,
its body bowed to
the shape of my first
great indiscretion-a crime
so small and spineless-
and drove home puffed, sped,
was stopped, and robbed of one hundred
and sixty dollars.

©2009
Concrit welcome.

A HushingA hushing closes ( Read more... )

To Write a SestinaI want to write a sestina ( Read more... )

UntitledMy father's car smelled like ( Read more... )

You Will See Blue Again Tomorrow
We'll start with this: a house. This is where Jane lives.
( What is art about? )

London CrawlingI build saints out of my isolation ( Read more... )

Night Noises.Dorothy’s voice down the hall ( Read more... )