She asked me to come early,
called me to the bedroom,
stood still as a soldier
in her slip Read More

A child
exploring, head down,
pushing a stick through
sandy debris, poking Read More

(dedicated to my nephew George Allen) Read More

Our parents took us to museums
like they ushered us to church.
No questions asked,
voices lowered to a whisper, Read More

Crows hold grudges.
They memorize your mug
when you play nice,
and make you pay Read More

Tip your head
for a half lung of rarified air
while scrawny boys swim you
down and flatten your chest Read More

We become
beasts of burden
like yaks or camels or
balding men carrying Read More

I recall
my first kiss,
first date,
first sex Read More

A trail of breadcrumbs, the Pole Star
make reliable guides
in most light,
yet today they’re hidden Read More

Settled
like glass
on a hushed eddy,
pearlescent cloud Read More