Poetry
July/Aug 2019
Pagan Virtues
If you have them, your day will overflow with options; you can reexamine everything that smells of dogma or the forbidden, tip your hat to the great poem that is […]
Poetry
Mar/Apr 2018
I Was Thinking
in the narrow confines of a single page perhaps even of a single life, the made-up can rival the likely, the way fantastic things can enliven and expand the possible, […]
Poetry
Spring 2014
Remaining the Same
Our ways have to change, he said to her, if we wish to remain the same. She agreed, and said, Let’s start with your ways first. For example, your belief […]
Poetry
Spring 2014
My Bad
The people who say “My bad” are unable to say, “Sorry, I was wrong, I’ll never do that again.” At best they half mean something like, I underestimated my capacity […]
Poetry
Fall 2012
The Obvious
Sometimes when the obvious is out there battling to get past its lightweight reputation and offer us what it conceals, little apertures appear, invite the eye. A man can see […]
Poetry
Summer 2004
Turning to the Page
I remember that cavernous silence after my first declaration of love, then, feeling I must have been misunderstood, saying it again, and, years later, with someone else, exclaiming, “That was […]
Poetry
Summer/Fall 1999
The Sexual Revolution
In that time of great freedom to touch and get in touch, we lived on the prairie amid polite moral certainty. The sensate world seemed elsewhere, and was. On our […]
Poetry
Summer/Fall 1999
Before the Sky Darkens
Sunsets, incipient storms, the tableaus of melancholy—maybe these are the Saturday night events to take your best girl to. At least then there might be moments of vanishing beauty before […]
Poetry
Winter 1998
Riffs & Reciprocities
DEMOCRACY Appalling that some people—the mendacious, the uninformed—can vote. Yet worse if they could not. Oddly, the majority does have an intelligence, sleepy-keen, animal-like, most brilliant when injured or wronged. […]
Poetry
Spring 1994
Decorum
She wrote, “They were making love up against the gymnasium wall,” and another young woman in class, serious enough to smile, said “No, that’s fucking, they must have been fucking,” […]
Poetry
Spring 1987
Stories
It was back when we used to listen to stories, our minds developing pictures as we were taken into the elsewhere of our experience or to the forbidden or under […]