Poetry
Winter 1996
Abdication of a Second Cook and Baker
When Ed became Edward the 8th (overnight, alone in the galley, baking) we were awed but amused. His brooding on the Duke of York, that chiseling brother, snubber of Wallis: […]
Poetry
Winter 1996
Whittaker
Our Jamaican fireman got two letters in Santos, which he tore up small and flushed. The photographs disappeared from his locker door. Their soggy shreds may warn the ocean's bottom-feeders […]
Poetry
Autumn/ November 1969
Three A.M.
She filled her glass and wavered by the sink. He poked burned toast crumbs. They watched an ashtray smoke. Stupid with regret he heard their ruthless talk now utterly destroy […]