Poetry
Winter 1998
As Empty as a Church, I Believe I Am a Small Testament to the Failing Relationship between Space and Light
The progress, if any, could not be called spiritual. Those were days made entirely of dusk. Those were days that wasted themselves. So I would walk it there, a soul […]
Poetry
Winter 1998
In Defense of Marriage
Marry the black horse stuck Dumb in her humble corral. Marry the white fences; marry the fenceless Moon and the defenceless sky. Marry the feedlot and the threshing floor. Like […]