Being a Good Man
I’m sick of lugging this satchel of bones from office to woods, alphabetizing each knuckle, burying hip joint or femur. […]
Poems, Teachers, Tributes
Tributes
Angelenos, Poems, Tributes
The Draft of a Messiah
I’m not sure what sounds escape when a false messiah sings. If lips part gently, while tongue pushes out noise
Angelenos, Poems, Tributes
In My Mother’s Things
specifically, in one of the old recipe boxes she kept in the kitchen pantry, was a poem. Soon after she
Poems, Teachers, Tributes
The Existential Self
Once in a while an owl barks above the black bog, and I turn another page of a big book
Poems, Teachers, Tributes
Unwise Purchases
They sit around in the house Not doing much of anything: the boxed set Of the complete works of Verdi,