I decided to give the Museum of Palpable Art one last go before I gave it up as a bad job. The first two times had been busts, plain and simple. And when I had…
Browsing Category Borders
Three Poems of Separation
The tree outside the barbershop was struck down sometime last night, its Siamese boughs wrenched from each other in violent divorce and the weaker flung to the ground— someone, some official someone, has hedged the…
On the Corner of 5th and Orange
the three of us turn right. Past the iron fence wrapped in raspberry, thick with bee song and morning glory’s violet, the tree’s jaw and its opera throat hitting all the right notes. Past the…
Midden / Appetite
My mother calls herself our trash heap. She eats what we won’t, grows plump on our leftover eggs, bread crusts, the bitter-hearted lotus seeds we cannot stomach. We have small appetites. Waiting for us is…