Poetry
Nov/Dec 2017
Not to Know How to Live
All modesty is false modestywhen it comes to poems, or to the silence in which poems begin before they are words, when they are still daisies at the foot of the dead […]
Poetry
Nov/Dec 2017
So Be It
It If the neighbor’s roof is a shamble of broken tiles, so be it. If those tiles sit there for weeks. If no one does a thing about them. If […]
Poetry
Nov/Dec 2017
I Call It Joy
this being unnoticed. Sitting like this next to the stone lamb outside the Cathedral. My lost soul, which prefers the stone lamb to the living God. Prefers these deep shadowsto the summer […]
Fiction
Spring 1990
A Week and a Day with Fra Filipo Lippi’s Frescoes in the Cathedral at Spoleto
1 First Day I go inside at the hottest time of day. It is dark and cool. A woman stands in the back of the Duomo and prays, touching her breasts […]
Nonfiction
Spring 1990
Mira
Mira in a black and white photograph, four days old, looks anxious, her eyes squinting, her forehead wrinkled as if trying to understand someone who is speaking too quietly, or […]