Poetry
Winter 1996
Local Call
You handle me like I'm a local call. I'm expensive. Long distance—although having never been loved I don't know how to tell you so. So I answer the phone, […]
Poetry
Summer 1995
Verily, Vérité
Classical minus Jazz?—the Blues— I On Screen “. . . you don’t b’lieve I’m leavin’ try to catch the train I’m on . . .” Blueblack hair slicked back hot […]
Poetry
Summer 1994
The Hour of Blue
nickles of daylight spent, night an empty pocket. . . . . .caught between thought and sleep, coffee pumping blood, veins, arteries needled by handsewn sentences, mind stained paper, alphabet […]
Poetry
Spring 1992
Book of Routh
Whither thou goest . . . I learn to live by guile, to do without love. I’m not scared. I wait in the dark for you, Sleeping to avoid death, […]