in the garden with you dirt, food tell me what I can eat make that funny whistle sound with a leaf on rainy days we watch the storm from the …
Category:
Poetry
On the lighthouse’s narrow stairs, my mother’s hand in mine, my children steadying her back, three generations pressed together in one fragile climb. Her knees ached, the steps too steep, …
From the third row of the brightly lit conference room, I watch your feet shift back and forth while Andrew lectures next to you. Are you nervous? Your hands wind …
I do not mind ..my mother’s hair as she prepares dinner and it ends up ..flossing ..teeth, yet short, practical … with .enough responsibility ..to be genetic history, …..flitting, ……….caught. …
my dad introduced me to perseemons ‘Anak, want me to cut you perseemon?’ ‘Anak, that perseemon isn’t ripe yet’ ‘Anak, I bought 12 perseemon for cheap!’ trips to Henlong market …
“1935-August… 1000 young cherry trees are donated to [the Parks] Board by Mr. and Mrs Uyeda. These are the first in the city and will be planted-out when more mature …
a perfect storm in a summerlike August sunny afternoon the sky was suddenly covered by a giant black cloak the cloak’s invisible train tramped across the towns in the north …
‘mr big ? is that supposed to be ironic ?’ put the breast back into the blouse we managed to convince some swingers to bet on us here’s a cup, …
blue button-down soaked rubbing buddha’s belly truth in pieces brodsky recording a jingle merwin whistling for his life ‘i give u divorce on the thames’ get off ur miniature horse …
They told me it was a thousand years old. I believed them. I believed in things that lasted — in black eggs rolled in ash, in salt and secrets, in …