Poetry
Spring 1989
From the Temple of Longing
The moment the children climb into my ex-wife’s car they buckle themselves into a faraway look. The little one never cries, the eldest counts white hairs that sneak like the […]
Poetry
Spring 1989
A February Thaw Should Be Played Slowly
Where you dive, the six-sided bits of sky, frozen and angry, drive so hard into the folded pages of your eyes, they lift you up like the white wings of […]
Poetry
Spring 1989
Dance of the Mourning Child
He opened the door to the kindergarten: hung his coat on a peg, unbuckled his boots, and rocked awhile on his heels. He rifled books for the porcupine whose only […]