Publications & Achievements
Photo Shoot
You stand suspended, the ladder which seems to swim against a white ceiling. I lay in a curve of color—I imagine somewhere, the wind is blowing. You tell me to look deep into the lens, eyes conversing, and I do. Inside the barrel, there are woods. I find a tree, when,...
It Ends With Three.
And the hands begin floating out in the open--- all fingers like predisposed tiger lilies. * In the end, there is water hung over the rafters like long sticks, like limbs, * and there are birds lining the doorway. You sleep in your bed, unaware of the predetermined...
This is My Greatest Fear.
In a dream, you began to open your robe and paused; in that moment your body looked exactly like mine--- it paused and proceeded with cancer.
Poem with an Oddly Placed Title
Sorry in advance for the title; it just seemed right. A Quiet Suicide 1. The movement was subtle---the break from vine to vineyard, the watching of broken bird eggs, hairline fractures. The young ones, they had eyes like water and baking powder. 2. A field dotted with...
As the Sun Rises, The Brother Disappears in the Shape of an Acorn.
1. He's sleeping again, and inside he dreams that he cannot eat, cannot sleep--- and then he can't. Not like this. Not in this room labeled C3 on the second floor--- on the kidney side of the hospital. 2. And then, I'm addressing you--- You are lost again, your usual...
In Midnight Orchards
In Midnight Orchards for Dragan, these haikus and lines The sunset falls like gold over water: softly, deliberately, before the white horse envelops the sky. Then, there is the moon--- followed by the apple trees. Your...
At Wolf Lake / Just Outside of Prophetstown
The sinners don't often come here to learn to write---their skin pale with too little sunlight, the lost pigmentation. They float like lost souls in boats over the water, drifting slowly toward and away from one another until the snow comes--- snowflakes falling like...
When the Leaf Lifts, It Falls and Leaves Behind a Fossil of Water.
At first, there is nothing but the sound of breaking branches--- until there is an engine, a dusty hearse, a line turning the corner, car after car, the police leading the way onto the Raccoon Lake [main exit], all accompanied by a flag, all too like a man burning a...
Poem of the Day & Reading Posts
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Book Reviews & Author Interviews
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Past Literary Events
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