after A Field in England I’ve been here before. A walking ghost before purposeappeared. Eyes rolling, billowing black sleeves, a manleads a group through a field. His smile shrieks.The others hold the corded rope tied…
Browsing Category Poetry
The Blessing
Most of us hand off traumaslike traditions, the bloody, mud-crusted baton a father bats his son withbefore the boy takes it running off into the dark future. The pain of being humanrains down fire unto…
“Stories We Were Told” and “Sirens”
Stories We Were Told for Catherine Corless The young warrior Fionn didn’t mean to steal knowledge. He just burst the blisteron the scale of a mythical salmon roasting over the fire. He sucked his thumband…
She Fools Me Every Time
When I discover my shoeunder her pillow and my credit cardsfloating in the tub, I kiss herfor finding them. Vile animal, she calls mefor taking her clothesand washing them. I confess. She changes my name:…
The Last Thing I Will See Before I Die
Saturday is small and full of bright hot life and love buns. I can’t taste the chocolate notes in coffee three, but Jesus turns the wet brown grounds toliquid light and I growthick roots, twisting…