Garage Sense
Nobody would be likely to steal my old Chevy truck, I guess.
Poetry
Sophie In Bohemia
Open paint cans clutter the floor, and color slops over […]
The Day Slows Down
As the sun crosses the meridian dividing the house, / the day slows down, and the living room becomes whiter. […]
Aunt Flo’s Goodbye
Aunt Flo had a daughter She was a drug addict Aunt Flo had leukemia Her husband left her Aunt Flo had a party invited everyone she knew gave everyone gifts told everyone how much she loved …
The Mexican
Ahead of the crowd, I settle into a choice window seat. This former school bus won’t roll from Times Square deep into New Jersey until every seat is paid for. I eye all those …
Uralt
The colleagues would celebrate closing a case with the special hidden bottle of honey-tinted brandy, the very finest, extremely old. All the way down it would burn: grapes of France, …
Doucette At Work In The Bookstore
Face: heart-shaped; matter-of-fact, diffident Eyes: bespectacled; hiding, searching Arms: thin; hands nervous with low energy Legs: woolly socks to just below the knee; bare …
Keeping Confidences
“You’d better not write a poem about this,” my daughter warns, only half-joking. She’s just visited her cousin in prison, a young man she’s never been really close to but whom she’s known …
Ghost Road
Interstate traffic veers smoothly right as some State road remnant, a pale-laned highway swatch, trails left through median weeds competing with cracked asphalt, pebbles, and ragged …