I forgot the color green
in a maze of thirty-degree months
till the exam room closed
till my Korean friend left for home
till humidity aroused my
hip-clinging shorts;
bare toes;
pretty dresses;
naked back;
taste buds [banana-blueberry-strawberry
peach?]
a summer [fruit salad] oddity;

I sit upon a stool at the counter in my grandmother's kitchen and watch the door open and close. My Midwestern relatives spill in, some with dogs, others with children, others with boyfriends. Gifts in hand, they smile and embrace one another. 
They pretend that everything is okay, and, I suppose, it is…for right now. Though, I have been ( Read more... )

 
Golden rod and the 4-H stone
The things I brought you
When I found out you had cancer of the bone

Your father cried on the telephone
And he drove his car to the Navy yard
Just to prove that he was sorry

In the morning through the window shade
When the light pressed up against your shoulder blade
I could see what you were reading

Oh the glory that ( Read more... )

“No, I’m here talking to you, remember?”

“When did you first meet?”

“It was when I was ten. I remember that it was a Wednesday in April. It was cloudy out…  She was sitting all alone on the edge of the playground, chewing at the edges of an Oreo cookie. My older brother had the only correct way to eat one was to twist it so that it broke ( Read more... )

In the light of the sun, is there anyone? Oh, it has begun...
Oh dear you look so lost, eyes are red and tears are shed,
This world you must've crossed, you said…

You don't know me, you don't even care,
You don't know me, you don't wear my chains...

Essential and appealed, carry all your thoughts across
an open field,
When flowers gaze at you... ( Read more... )

MICHIGAN

Everything that follows took place before Lorne came in the middle of the night last fall, before I shaved my head, and before our first dance, but after the last of the yellow warblers had gone. It was just before we began to spend our days in the front seat of his old, red pickup truck, driving aimlessly through town to pass time ( Read more... )

 
The hum of the cicadas makes me feel alive. The last time they were here, seventeen years ago, I was unborn. Maybe that's why I feel so connected to the sound. It was one of the first I ever heard. My window is constantly cracked open to hear them. It's kind of funny to think about all the things that happened in the time since they were here last ( Read more... )

 
Fall 2007 Poem Collection

A Moment's Notice

As much as you may disapprove

Life's string is never solitary-

Tangling and knotting and spiraling into everyone else

Until it finds another strand to tie to and steady.

Did I forget to explain myself?

Maybe I just assumed you knew it,

Like another of your many facts that you

Tuck up your sleeve to the elbow,

( Read more... )

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