Colette Inez

I have set out to meet her for a last time, to examine a face that resembles mine in one corner above the right eye and in a temple vein. Fontainebleau, Tours, Poitiers, Angoulême. The train feeds the voyager a dream of calm. My mother and father, t [...]

Dear Friend: The day you brought me geraniums, my period came. That night I had a red dream, red walls, lamps. You were a photographer in a darkroom developing shots I couldn't quite make out. I asked you how you balanced opposing needs. You shr [...]

Mice, be off, and timid days. I sing of wolves and wolverines in a circling dance. My waiting time on the hill is a tremor before the dance begins, and I sing: Love's no mother bear pawing the light in a river of stars, it will dig no winter den. An [...]

Waiting to remember theorems, isthmuses, and litmus tests, I dozed through school and dawdled home where the parent wars went on in an arsenal of booze. Besotted sergeants dreaming cadences I couldn't hear, they woke geared to fight. Day after day, [...]

The amputated branches of plane trees in France make good use of time and live in French events. Roundelay. Roundelay. Shine, pretty sun. Rain, snow, the seedcase of stars are embedded in a memory of reaching farther out than wanted by the town. Roun [...]

When my mother mulls on the nature of angels, ether, and clouds, I put down my fork and study a fly, its wingtips on my mutton chop, before me a stack of plates to be wiped clean like words on a slate. Even in silence as I do the work, I lose an argu [...]