Come to Your Senses: Smell
He slides the red checkered lid off the glass jar and whiffs, deeply.
“Pot!”
His classmates laugh.
He passes the jar, all part...
Morning Glory
for N.P., who breathed the first line
We need a particular privacy to feel—
a wired frame guarded by a quilt, dark
curtains who tame the...
Middle Age
Suddenly this hunger.The yard’s river
birch finally empties itselfof summer’s grief
when the night’s crescentmoon swallows
a small piece of the pallidred sky.
Before the fall,regret is...
Listen
Joy found in the absenceall about us.
Nothing singedand everything easy.
Harvest pumpkinsglow burnt orange,
smoldered yellow.A cat comes
offeringin its mouth a songbird
pink as greasejust after the...
Fragmentation Grenade: The Violence of Hybridity
With thanks to Nomi Stone
Nomi and I come together on hybridity — a form, a site, where disparate elements...
