Publications & Achievements
In a Field, The Absence of Field
or heart---like breathing, you enter waist-high grasses, the tan of prairie dog, fern, wild lily, & the wind takes you up into itself, your body curves & sways with the grasses, canvas, Magritte of the field & passing. How you ended up here, you are unsure, but...
I Treat Your Swollen Ankle
propped on a pillow on our oversized coffee table, all of our ice packs lost in the move, & I try to talk to you about my impending job loss, another poem rejected by a favorite magazine, &...
Oregon, Columbine, October, November, December—
I think of you, fellow teacher, and I fear what lies on the other side of the door, the window, the rain. What power lies in waiting, what anger, what brown paper bag concealing fire. I lean back in my desk chair and make myself a little smaller, blend into the...
Poem up at Rogue Agent today!
Hi all! Just in case you haven't heard elsewhere, my poem, "Memory Stone," (which is arguably my best poem about the grieving process) is up at Rogue Agent Journal today! Dear Editors, thank you so much for this recognition and giving this poem a home; I was...
Poem up on Thank You for Swallowing today!
Hi all! Just in case you haven't heard elsewhere, my wedding night poem, "Undress," is up at Thank You for Swallowing today, alongside my all-awesome, only-for-Thank-You-for-Swallowing duckface. Dear Editor, thank you so much for this recognition and giving...
I Will Vandalize His Angel Tombstone
And it is from this moment that you are going to live. Think of that. You’re standing in the middle of what used to be a cornfield,...
First, She was a Poem: Cadence on the Swings
I had a bit of a moment today, and I really have to share. In the picture to your left is my beautiful, nine-and-a-half-month old daughter, Cadence (yes, like the title), and she had her first turn on a swing today---one of those little, infant-safe ones on a...
My Attempt at a Definition Poem while Reading Allan Peterson
This is why I love reading: it opens so many doors. While reading Allan Peterson's Precarious (published by 42 Miles Press, 2014), I began to consider less-than-common terms, synonyms that are so interesting and unique that we often do not use---for instance,...
Poem of the Day & Reading Posts
Poem of the Day: Larissa Szporluk
LADYBIRDS Brilliance is a carcass on a snow-white beach. Envy never sleeps. I tell my children truthfully: a long red beard is breaking from the darkness scale. He’s chasing you because you’re new. Because he’s old and sees the town in dirty tones:...
Poem of the Day: Norman Dubie
TROMBONE There were carols on the kitchen radio, a late cold night, entering the room while straightening the blistered Navajo rug, I remembered suddenly what the first eight notes of hark, the herald angels sing felt like vibrating through my body that...
Poem of the Day: Bill Rasmovicz
THE MOON'S HIND LEGS The moon's hind legs are invisible. Its bastard ear-boring cry is only fully heard by infants. Bright as the starchy pharmacist's coat, its objective is to illuminate the puddled glass replacing someone's stolen vehicle, the tuft of...
Poem of the Day: Frank Stanford
THE LIGHT THE DEAD SEE There are many people who come back After the doctor has smoothed the sheet Around their body And left the room to make his call. They die but they live. They are called the dead who lived through their deaths, And among my people...
Poem of the Day: Sylvia Plath
JUVENILIA Arranged in sheets of ice, the fond skeleton still craves to have fever from the world behind. Hands reach back to relics of nippled moons, extinct...
Poem of the Day: Jamaal May
CHIONOPHOBIA ---Fear of Snow Fluttering ash dissolves on your brother's tongue. He thinks of you building a fort from snow before you knew what forts were and...
Poem of the Day: C.D. Wright
PROVINCES Where the old trees reign with their forward dark light stares through a hole in the body’s long house. The bed rolls away from the body, and the body is forced to find a chair. At some hour the body sequesters itself in a shuttered room with...
Poem of the Day: Larry Levis
THE SPIRIT SAYS, YOU ARE NOTHING: Because you haven’t praised anything in months, You walk down to the river and study one ripple Above a dead tree Until it is almost dark enough For the moon to whiten it, But it does not, And so you put your hand out,...
Book Reviews & Author Interviews
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Past Literary Events
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