Among the things I no longer see in my house is the ghost of a ladybug that haunts my uncertain geranium. The geranium's uncertainty is, in part, due to the…
An unshareable autumn night: you + I walked along sodium-lit sidewalks. Stars tucked themselves in squirrels nests but didn't know how to hide. You laughed, pressed a wafer cookie onto…
This poem has its own house, a hundred closets where the mismatched towels go, one cupboard where the dishes rattle and chip because a train loses its track about 50…
Lacking heat, I line my ribs with decorative votives, light them, and forget to say a prayer. A service of lips reading words that slide away like the difference between…
Tongue. Found balled up in an inside-out pant leg while pulling laundry out of the dryer. Slightly felted. No longer fits quite right. Manufacturer discontinued the original model and has…