Poetry
Winter 1988
Shooting for Shape
To beat the sun that branded our streets, we inhabited the dim pool hall whose tables spread even as village greens, and every game began with a clean break clacking […]
Poetry
Winter 1988
The Man Who Loved Distance
The entire country afire with spring clearing, distant mountains loomed as shadows in the blue haze, and the fetid smoke followed me everywhere, like a beggar, slunk into the hotel […]