
Nocturne Approaching Bluefield, W.Va.
We slow for town. The mausoleum shell of a coaling tower, dead for fifty years, bruises the air. The Kmart …
We slow for town. The mausoleum shell of a coaling tower, dead for fifty years, bruises the air. The Kmart …
It’s Friday night again, two movies so bad another one of your lives has trickled out between them, leading your …
Durum wheat’s taller this summer, or else the Ropp widow is shrinking. She never kicks the feral cats …
Eleven thousand years ago the last glacier scraped through this field. Transmuted by the new sun, struck numb …
On this site, you will find selected poems from my not-yet-published manuscript – which, as we speak, is snuggling with …