The sweetness of forgetting comes down to falling in love with you each day all over again. Where lovers converge there is plenty of time. Time doesn’t even come up until the children are safely themselves. It’s always been hard to say why we’re her...

At night the house walks backward through the day. Emails un‑send, mugs climb into cupboards, crumbs knit themselves back into bread. Your chair rises without you. By the time you touch the doorknob, the porch light has already lost your name. In th...

Backstage wasn’t actually backstage at Wherever—it was in the back of the room, behind the PA, with the entire bar between green room and microphone. Usually it didn’t matter; the shoulders aren’t packed particularly tight when only 25 people show u...

Chpt 1 - Let’s go back to the video store It was the kind of place you can’t easily find anymore. Which isn’t to say that it doesn’t exist. You have to look for it like a coin that slips down the back of the sofa. That was just the kind of place it ...

The Rolling Stones were snarling on the car’s eight-track and Wizard was telling a stupid joke when my right front tire left the pavement. We slid off the S-curve and cut into a field of ripe corn like a harvester. Stalks shattered. Leaves whipped t...

(1.)     Seriously. That was his name. I found him in the Flint Yellow Pages, nearly faded to parchment, hanging on the stained wall by the phone in the holding area. I had to squint at the number in the dimness without my glasses. The con...

Entitled You’d think a ghost who gets free room and board could help out around the house once in a while. But Emily floats through the living room reading A Christmas Carol like an entitled specter. She moans a lot, even when we have company. Which...

Twilight paints sky smoky purple. Grackles pepper this sheet of dusk just above electric lines. Some smear it with their shadow bodies. The ones who land on wires shake them as their toes grasp the tautness, then space themselves like clothespi...

someone wheeled me into ICU         after they’d opened my brain removed the tumor     there is a clean coldness     to this room the beeps of monitors &n...

For all the kettle's whistling I cannot hear a thing. Too busy swimming in the gulf of having you a little and not at all. Last summer, a riptide carried you out to sea. Who could blame the ocean for wanting you? But I do wonder what happened out th...

First the tide rushes in Plants a kiss on the shore  from Ebbtide, Writer/s: Carl Sigman, Robert Maxwell   How glad I am today, awakened first to see you, feel your warmth so near as the sky pulls the sun over the horizon. A golden tide &n...

When my Uncle Lukas died, he didn’t have a will—he just left things for the people he wanted to give things to in cardboard boxes in his kitchen. And even though I didn’t know him very well, my mother told me that Lukas had left a box for me. And I ...

i.  confounds volcanic  stalactic—  if you dissolve in hot springs  expose veins below  water table  fumes will radiate      in perfect patterns  ii.  contains inelastic...

Ma said you ought not to spit. But it’s a habit I picked up from playing kick the can. When I’d lose, I’d get so mad, I’d spit. After kick the can, we’d wander down to the intersection, and Ma would get so mad cause for some reason cars kept running...

I have triumphed over the choking of my body, over my flushed and angry self, my hauntings, the way I carried myself from birth, like death, as though I was alone in the labour room and my mother waited in the corridor, hoping to embrace me in one p...