Poetry
Mar/Apr 2020
Fruit
I swatted a mob of flies from the bowl of peaches; erased, sharpened my pencil, erased again. Art Class. Indiana. 1986. Starkey pushed me, scrawled dick on the back of […]
Poetry
Mar/Apr 2020
On Billy Lucas, Who Hanged Himself in His Grandmother’s Barn
The horse stall still holds his shadow as the hayloft holds last fall’s bound hay. All day the field offers its usual mercies: rust on a sardine tin, quick worm […]
Poetry
Sept/Oct 2016
Chemistry
From the middle Dutch boele, which means lover, bully was a term of endearment in the sixteenth century, which meant that a feudal lord could take the hand of his […]