Skip to main content

Poetry

Eight Bucolics

what color is your collar Boss
is your backbone sore from bending over
when you clap your hand against your thigh
does a little cloud of dust fly off

Night Story: Window …

Last night, Jimmy was still alive. Thin as a kid in his soft green robe. Everyone happy to help. I figured he'd made it onto the new medicine in time. You were cooking a big pot of shrimp for friends and nurses. Our friend Kishio had just drawn the J [...]

Touchpool

We are the oldest people in line waiting to pet a baby sand shark. Hundreds of children pat the baby on the back, avoid extra splashing. But when it's our turn, I pause. The guide says just rub in one direction or you might get burned from the [...]

Pages