Some people laughed at the gap in her teeth, but the sound she made saying ordinary things was like a sweet penny whistle on May Day when, of all the boys, she picked me for a kiss. Her daddy made moonshine among the birches, moving it by night on …
To escape a love that didn’t last, you drive toward another one that won’t last either. The trip from Fort Wayne to Bedford takes four years, six months, and ten days. To fight despair, you count other jackknife travelers on the road. One man holds a torch …
to Geralynn and Ann One Elementary My childhood toys were words. In awe of snow, I loved …
Seventeen Syllables He was a jewel of selflessness before there was a moon. That’s how I thought of him when I saw his moves. Such coolness, too, in his movie-speak when he jostles with the clerks at Blockbuster! My friends congratulate me for finding such a catch. “Oh, he’s a …
White Jeep parting people in Port-au-Prince streets like the Red Sea as we drive toward the mountain, toward air devoid of exhaust fume velvet curtains. At a stop sign I see her, a plastic bag seemingly filled with plastic bags perched upon her bandana crown hand atop clamped down. …
There is a cotton field in Sardis, Alabama— a stretch of mud & white spread like the best patchwork— before the church where Great Gran Matilda was buried. After the service, my kin walked aisles of puff & profit, ushered samples back to bluegrass, turned tufts between our fingers to …
1. Usually on snowy days with grilled cheese wedged against bowls, Mom always pushing the dairy. I rejected her milk when I learned for myself how to cut the can, let the tiny blade pierce the seam until a jagged circle dropped, edged with thickened Campbell’s, only Campbell’s. Sweet and …
This is not a love letter. This doesn’t end with me touching your small breasts, or looking into your hazel-shifting-green, depending-on-the-day-hazel eye. This doesn’t end with me holding you close while I hear the rise of your sleeping rib. This just isn’t a love poem, not what you think, …
