Makeup
We were afraid to jinx it, so when my daughter emerged
from her dark bedroom for the first time in what felt like months
and came to the table with her soft face caked in cosmetics,
we all stilled our gazes, made certain not to react
Awards
A Lesson in Metaphor
Another name for a penis is a microphone.
No one told me this. The radio had to pull me aside.
It’s a metaphor, of course.
Old Blue
A thing that’s named “Old Blue” should be a dog,
some flop-eared, lazy hound. Your Blue was
just a car. Okay, not just a car—an Oldsmobile
Awards, Poems, Poetry Prize
Living the Chemical Life
I have to admit that I don’t care about the historical Jesus. One way or the other. I’ve always thought
The Second Pass
The first pass along the whetting stone
creates an edge too fine to last;
the second, more blunting pass
tempers the edge into usefulness.
Audio, Awards, Chapbook Prize, Chapbooks, Poems
In America
“Why don’t you go to Japan and ask the cats?” I said to the TSA agent when she asked if