Monday, January 23, 2012


...I have a new poem, "Archival" up at and also here under "Words in Print."

...Today, right at this very moment, the sun is shining. She looks pretty and proud, not at all lonesome up there in the sky all by herself.
The dirty dregs of snow are sliding off the road banks or pooling in the street like grainy oil. The town and land is no longer perfect and beautiful. Rather, now the purity has been stripped away, like a woman without makeup, like a man telling you his secrets and sins.
Both images are real, both are true, but we lean toward one and away from the other.
Maybe that's why the world adjusts itself at night.

...This is another piece that was published in an anthology edited by Lydia Davis at 6S. Each story has to be six sentences or less...

Moving Day

The box smells musty but after I shift some contents, it doesn’t. Maybe twenty-five years have passed since I’ve seen this; brittle now but still bearing the faintest sweet scent, still blushing berry hues in the bed of its pedals.
I carry it down the steps like a trophy, a gift, a caught butterfly, and I imagine time as things were when you held one side of your gowned chest to me, so clear-skinned and optimistic you were then, me pimpled and nervous that I’d stab you with the corsage pin.
I reenact it all, right down to the part where I hear your insistent voice say, “If we don’t get going pretty soon, we’ll never make it.”

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