poetry

  Baled wool washed ashore for weeks. At first, the appearance of each bundle was sobering and macabre, but after a few days, one woman began to look forward to the surprise and the wealth of what drifted her way. … Read More

The Omar D. Conger was docked in Port Huron, Michigan when a boiler exploded. The ship was blown to pieces. A 200-lb radiator plummeted into the Falk Undertaking Parlors during a funeral service.   Some said the radiator was a … Read More

  In one month she assembled the 1000-piece mandala mosaic on a dining room table that never saw a meal. She turned to the puzzle after he died, and I understand why she can’t bear to see it pulled apart … Read More

  Light goes a long way on its oil, while the men are still throwing tires two in a hand onto steel carts, stacking tires six high in rows, then tying off with higher lifts until somebody knows what they’ve … Read More

  I think of her during the colony’s collapse— loyal, responsible, confused, steadfast in her hive— after her drones exit, leaving her with little bees, unable to ask:   Where did you go? Why did you leave? Where are you … Read More

  I am a pie weight, a mere pois, mirepoix: mix or pie? I’ll make this instead. My blind tart has a lattice to come. Dried beans replace weights in the recipe. “What can I use an empty/heart-cup for?” Pois … Read More

  In the dark, it’s safe to move around. By day you will be seen, though nature offers its disguises, the spice bush that shelters deer and on a leaf, the smiling swallowtail caterpillar. The sun sculpts turf around you, … Read More

  There was an island in his chest, and he called it “son.” There was a small boat capsized on the ocean, and he called it “faith.” Once, there had been a rock he called “home,” but now he called … Read More

  She’s heard of sadness but not anguish. Her uncle thinks we ought to gather stories now for when she’s older and trying to distinguish memories from what we’ve told her.   I’m trying to explain her father to my … Read More

  You hate the easy things to hate: new buildings and the weird materials they’re made from (gypcrete, carbon fiber, foam), 5-Hour Energy, four-dollar gas, the newness of the sacrificial grass in medians, the new arterials that in another month … Read More

  She likes to wheel herself because she isn’t fast enough to wake the elf who shakes his hips and calls on us to deck these halls each time I push her past.      

  (Yeats)   I went out to the maple tree because a riot was in its head, and flung a Frisbee at the noise, but brought a starling down instead, and laid it in a shoebox nest, and put some … Read More