* * * Thistle Dump Armistice I waited in Middlesex, ordered a Guinness at the Inn. Sea of crisis, south serpent. Lake of Perseverance, Lake of Death. I don’t know…
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Lightning flashes outside my window as an imaginary BluJay knocks on my door. He asks me if I’ve seen death lately. I ask him how he found my address. He…
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They were reading again. They were reading, and they were waiting. Waiting by the lake. “Lacuna” they read aloud, “Latin for a missing book, or a cavity in bone.” They…
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In the summer of 2012, I quit my office job and spent a month and a half on a solo cross-country road trip moving from Pittsburgh to San Francisco. It…
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Anne and I were standing on the mezzanine at the San Francisco Symphony admiring the veranda of the cityscape and trying our best to acclimate to the setting. I was…
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* * * I worry about the birds in a rain like this. Where do they go? Someone told me once that in a bad storm seabirds ride the…
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July 23: six weeks of high summer still to go. A heat dome has simmered us in 110 degrees. When it breaks like a fever, we throw the windows open…
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Cumulus: You can’t see the sun — its watery glow tumbles from bellies of clouds and pools on a slice of blacktop. You’re there with your friends, peeling pieces…
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Love Song for My Lemon Hare Green trees, sap green—streaming the interstate and hemming the fields, ladled as if from Constable’s brush, from Manchester to Nantwich, muted, yet golden,…
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I. There was the squirrel my mom killed while in Colorado with my dad, before my brother and I were born. She slowed down to let it cross the…
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The moon is far away, but still it sways the tides Never look at the black sun, my grandmother tells my mother. My mother is a child, and…