Bop Bag
“There is no love interest in these modern wars.”—Gertrude Stein, Wars I Have Seen When he deflates, horribly flat, with sticky crinklingnoises, I peel his body from other parts of…
Who Is It?
Here inside this fiction of myself,Two voices I always hear, both of them mine,I guess, one of them telling the truth, I guess.I don’t know which one it is that’s…
Everybody’s Tree
The storm broke over us on a summer night,All brilliance and display; and being out,Dangerously I thought, on the front porch standing,Over my head the lightning skated and blisteredAnd sizzled…
I, Who Am Neither
I, who am neither the someone who was hereThe moment before I spoke the line that I spoke This instant past, nor the one who became the oneWho in the…
Brunswick, Maine, Early Winter, 2000
The day that Suzie drove us out to getThe lobsters at the lobster place at the cove: Bill Moran in the passenger seat of the car,Doubled up as if in…
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