I Was on the Line

I Was on the Line

Until twenty I was just another hairnet, my hands part of the great machinery like a congress of sparrows, a dynamo powered by gossip and wintergreen. Every bearing was sticky as an old lip. Many of the ladies on the lifetime plan considered me inferior, gawked evil...
Drone Pilot

Drone Pilot

Winner of the 2014 Neil Shepard Prize in Poetry He changes into his flight suit, goes to war each morning— just a twenty-minute drive from Vegas, his wife and kids. He doesn’t talk much about the base, the windowless days, trapped smells of coffee, candy, sweat. In a...
Reverse

Reverse

    The man walks backward into a lamplit studio where like him the woman is crying. They scream in each other’s faces until the tears recede back into their eyes, turning them from red to white. The two hold each other, grateful for this cure. They undress and...
In Handfuls

In Handfuls

    No good can come of this. There is only oxygen in my palm, where cracked lines undulate and follow the salty tunnels of years—faucet drips, mouthfuls of testimonials. Earth is collected in a toddler’s plastic cup, clumps of grass and stock-piles of sticks, like...
Groundspeed

Groundspeed

               A falling plane as vessel. As Valkyrie— The espresso shots tremble, darkening; the ounces chatter on the tray as the unceilinged twin- engine roar scourges the ear of the drive-thru worker who only made out double tall. Out the window,            the...
The Tillinghast Machine

The Tillinghast Machine

    1909 Lights appear in the sky Say, it’s that machine Isn’t it? Tillinghast Machine It all begins December With Mr. Wallace E. Tillinghast Vice-President Sure Seal Manufacturing Company Worcester, Massachusetts Curled mustache Dark hair smooth And slicked back...
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