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A Childhood

The horse had been beaten and flies crawled on the beat marks.

A Childhood in Four Acts

End of October, days recede quickly into night. Leaves fall in slow motion.

A Collection of Eyelashes on Paper

My son trims a curtain of lashes, immures them into a stray year.

A Crow Flies Cleanly over the Cornstalks

The almanac tells them when the moon passes into ghost weather.

A Day at the Beach for Aphrodite

I was enraged at being alone on the outside of all that love and lust.

A Dream of Ease

I shoved them one by one, easy as pie yet with care, just shy of mercy.

A Kind of Thinking and Other Poems

Life, then, was song and purple font, imagining in words a future.

A Lot Going On Up There

The hawk moves out of the way to let a little hot package of breath rise up.

A Marriage Contract

They went to pray for the dead. It was important to shed some tears.

A Matter of Appeal

Felicia knew why he was there. He was waiting. Waiting for her.

A Mirror of a Mirror

Have two children to keep around the house in case one goes missing.

A Numbers Game

We are in his car. “Bell, I’m starving. Want to go for a burger or pizza?” I panic. Pizza. 285 calories per slice. Burgers. Harder to estimate.

A Place Like This

I can see on him how things are changing for and against us.

A Portion of Your Loveliness

My daughter’s favorite game is Holocaust. She’s quite inventive.

A Real Nice Baby and Other Poems

Royal baby George is tucked in the crook of his mother’s elbow.

A Secret Space

Two weeks after she and Mark were married, Hannah fell in love.

A Sleigh Ride

Some inner voice told her that now or never her fate would be decided.

A Small Hotel

The allure of Mardi Gras is to feel this way: unseen and unseeable.

A Small Motor

A boy watching another boy lucky gets an ache. That is a small motor.

A Soliloquy Would Imply That the Stage Is Empty

A father peeled the night / from another midnight & begged / me to lie

A Son of Baghdad

For me, Selweh was the real magic. She was nothing like my mother.

A Spinster’s Tale

When he had passed from view, I stumbled back from the window.

A Summer in Between

In a way she enjoyed the slow, sad feeling of letting it go.

A Theory and Other Poems

I have, in the long solitude of my body, asked for something else.

A Trout in the Milk

How much simpler and more satisfying was the company of men.

A Walkabout in Andrew Wyeth’s Painting and Other Poems

My bike, my skinny body, my pent breath was thrown to the grass.

A Wanderer

The tree was shaggy and it bore scars of shrapnel from the war.

A Weary Desperado

I was convinced she’d be back in the morning, like the sun.

A Writer’s Beginnings

I was writing copy for cheapo furniture for a crummy ad agency.

A. Roolette? A. Roolette?

She remembers that golden ocean, the promise of a whole new land.