Summer 2017 Make of this what you will, but I’m in my room. I’m alone. I’m waiting for a thunderstorm. I wait for the reassuring rumble… Read more “Waterbury”
I am the naked rock at the bottom of a ditch, constantly regretting its place in the world. I am the pine tree celebrating its contact with… Read more “Sitting at A Picnic Table in A Park, Writing”
LaGuardia to Orlando International Airport I noticed waiting for a flight from New York to Orlando that Billy Collins was in the food court, eating… Read more “Billy Collins in Flight”
Visit the Coliseum in Rome, close my eyes in the hypogeum, and imagine its ancient din. Drink towards a controllable stupor on the Montparnasse in Paris.… Read more “My Bucket List”
I’m the concrete your bare feet padded down as I backed out of your driveway. I’m every grenade ever rolled at you that never exploded, never… Read more “Green Leaf Volatiles”
I saw your car pull away from the curb, and, just for a moment, I saw myself, as if beheaded by light shining off its chrome. I… Read more “Across state lines”
Anna of the woods and hills. Anna with the soul of the universe. Anna of the tiny blades of grass. Anna went north and married someone else.