Latest Works

I woke with two heads. It’s happened before, though long ago. I sat at the edge of my bed. A sad affair of sticks and wooden branches...

It was a nightmare.  My four-year-old self nervously paced the dining room floor. I frequently returned to the windowsill for another...

Ancient trees are a dying breed. They are a dying breed because they are steadily going out of existence, yes—but, more than that,...

The first thing to hijack my awareness was the silence. Not the absence of sound—the jungle is never truly quiet—but the sudden...

No gull-winged birdmen hang in this current and glide. Just two thrill-seekers strapped in a steel blue tow chair, suspended under a...

The doctor who admitted me didn't believe in ghosts. He believed in delusions, in misfiring synapses, in the chemical architecture of...

for every letter of the alphabet especially for the fuchsia fairy Sing to reading and rereading every single...

The policeman’s red and blue flashing lights signaled for them to pull over. Nikki, the driver, told Trini, who had drifted into the...

Dante does not presume to call him by name But poet, father, master, teacher and guide. His respect seems paramount, but the words ring...

Before the first strike of the chisel, she was stone. Ten sweat-grimed men worked quickly cutting into the ribs of a mountain that held...

I smelled him before I saw him, the pungent draft of maraschino and cigar smoke smacking sobriety into my rum-drunk skull. Three days on...

Numb and in a quandary—  Dazed, disengaged, stymied.  Here is your birth chart,  which I have calculated  and drawn by hand.  I deliver...

Where will you find another  Garden now the storm falls  in folds of black crepe, bars  of the wicket door are closed  with a padlock,...

I only ever see the moon in the morning early— before you’re awake— as birdsong first trills from hallowed branches to welcome the...

My mind, memories, and soul came into being—like waking up, only somehow, I was already awake. My dim cabin aboard the Samsa was more...

cough in your throat, snake in the woodpile, outside, the poets remember too loudly— quiet, please, time is passing. every morning cracks...

It was time to venture out again. He didn’t particularly enjoy these journeys, but at least they were a reason to escape the monotony...

When my father was teaching me how to ride a bike, he also taught me about sin. We lived in Vienna, just having arrived from Minnesota....

there is more than one way to look at it.  outside the wood gift shop there is the desert, the gray hill  but the scrub shivers like...

Nobody batted an eye while the man with the carrion-crow mask handed the little girl flowers of violet. Not even the young farmhand, who...