Necessity

Necessity

            When I worked in an orphanage a boy came to harvest sugar cane in what he’d worn to work the street at a beach resort. His bunkmates picked up volcanic rock I later learned geologists call scoria—a word whose root gives us slag, drek and excrement. At the...
Not Huron or Michigan

Not Huron or Michigan

If your wife hates you don’t go out and get another one, it’s probably not your fault anyway unless you put too many oranges in the bowl and were only supposed to place two. Still, she probably can’t count but that says nothing about the turn of her elbow on the...
This Morning in Nebraska

This Morning in Nebraska

The corn has stopped whispering, “Rise,” and waits in silence for high clouds to bend in rain. Across the highway, soybean bushes crouch like green dogs wolfing bowls of earth. The actors in the hit play Boomermania wake, achy-boned, with ancient jingles in their...
Coyote Aubade

Coyote Aubade

I don’t remember the coyote or how I woke here not remembering my body or the shape that your hand left inside me. Desire on the nightstand like an empty claw and the candle reflected in the dark glass behind the curtain. And beyond that, the sound of coyotes in the...
We Assemble These Parts Into a Whole

We Assemble These Parts Into a Whole

I. The thought of you: Wild. Spreads and inhabits. In my mind, as you are in our shared days, uncontained. You heat through each neuron, the six letters of your name in lights. The fragile dendrites spark electric, every branch flooded with your current. Saturation as...