To My Brother

You found a pinky in the woodpile,underneath some wet leaves.You brought it back to the house,hairless and blind, shivering.Satch said it wouldn’t survive an hour,without its mom, without its nest,but you gave it a name, cupped it in your palm, drew milkinto a paper towel, and it suckled,briefly. And in one minute seizure,it was gone,... Continue Reading →

And Boys Play Savage in the Suburbs

We were friends once,before we sharpened scrapsfrom unfinished homesat the dead end of Cypress. We eyed ‘em true, those moldings,those sharp stones dug from the creekbed,those wires, thin and strong,each the color of our choosing — mine the striping of bruises,yours the venom of snakes. So proud and ballistic we,makers of spears in the suburbs,makers... Continue Reading →

Once the Pagans of Patapsco Wood

We laid snake bone by the rootsof the four trees fused at the waist. We dug tourmaline in the creekbed,dry that time of year and every yearbetween honeysuckle loam and wood rot. We sniffed skunk weed from the pitwhere the freakshow gathered and blazedup a bonfire tacked of pith and reeds,quick lit and soon extinguished.... Continue Reading →

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