Poems

Poems

Picnic

The potato salad warms to curds, and my aunt declares the day hotter than hottest skin, pauses under her full

Poems

Practice

He photographed the corner of his room. He did it over and over, the camera standing on its tripod, a

Poems

C6 Corvette

You have to see the new ‘vette— it’s low and long, like the prow of a boat. Sitting in it

Poems

Landscaping

Ex-boyfriends appear like daffodils after a slow and stuttering melt. Last autumn squirrels dug up bulbs, ran off and buried

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