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James Frazee



I've seen you snap pencils between teeth after school, your cool grin & diamond-studded incisor demanding justice for a "D" in religion. Or dropping an open milk carton from a third story window into the cardboard cap of a nun. You've whittled our te [...]

The House Where Stevens Died

If I could remember birth like a kneecap popped during genuflection, then I might admit nothing returns, that the grains of dust I make by living only clog someone else's life. Even at church, each word a priest may say dissipates like breath on glas [...]