Category: Poetry

Mere feet from fire station, the Big Y thief burns an old couple in their bed. Cut throats, empty wallets, then burn. Mami shoves some chicken into microwave. Twenty minutes on high. Papi’s pollo scorches,her fingertips burn. Jahn Foundry explosion. No … Continue Reading

We are working in boxes stacked up on wire, pulling our eyes closer together. I’m writing you to confess to my failures as I brew in the cracked tea pot on the window sill, Teetering between the snow and a steamy room with two moon faces. Let’s have a … Continue Reading

We are working in boxes stacked up on wire, pulling our eyes closer together. I’m writing you to confess to my failures as I brew in the cracked tea pot on the window sill, Teetering between the snow and a steamy room with two moon faces. Let’s have a … Continue Reading

Like—who?—a Zennist Who is lit up by a chunk of the mundane— Shinkichi Takahashi eternally burning seeing the baby’s Turd afloat in the communal bath— I’m walking past the greyhounds’ owners’ house When a tinkling chord from their portico Boards me. I … Continue Reading

He had been in a hell of a fight like being kicked twenty times in the head. Of course, he would know, like that time coming out of Driscoll’s, fighting those three guys from the flats, the tall one saying, This stupid shit won’t stay down. But they ju … Continue Reading

In old age, parents flutter like moths at the edge of sight. You know they’ll be gone in the morning. They leave a smatter of wing-colored dust, tiny scales that don’t wash off. Are they waving a white flag? Am I? I remember once, I asked my father why … Continue Reading