This Boy Can Never Do Anything Right

This boy sends paper airplanes skyward, hoping to touch the moon. They’re fast-devoured by air, dirt, momentum carrying them to crumple. This boy says he’s sorry to people in Walmart before he’s had a chance to brush against them. This boy knocks everything down—full...

To Make A Mountain

She’s planted grass again, your mother. Now she’s lying out there, making angels in bright, green springiness. So you go out too since she’s laughing, since maybe this time she won’t narrow her eyes. It’s warm. Ground under your back, sun behind a cloud so you can...

Still Life with PTSD and Geese

A nurse shoves some papers onto my lap. “These give your permission —” The gurney is surrounded by doctors and nurses wearing pale blue scrubs and masks. I try to sit up. “If…cancer…lymph nodes…permission to remove…” The words brand my brain. The first time I...

Monarch

Let me tell you about loose women, girls on high, groupie runaways and the immaculate mother. In a city of old convents they walk silent in white dresses, the crowd parts, no one asks questions or takes photos but evil tourists like me write poetry. A park with orange...

The Mime Offers His Services

In the spring of 1977, the State Champion Mime receives his trophy. After the applause dwindles he removes most of his make up with Noxzema and tissue. He slips out of his costume, striped-shirt, black pants and bowler into bellbottoms, paisley and platforms. He tucks...

to peace

The fringe and the middle meet when somebody like Emmett Kelly sweeps light into a dustpan.                            Kelly is a frowning...

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