Published in "La Piccioletta Barca" - Issue 18 - April 2020: https://picciolettabarca.com/issue-18/
The Sick Child
The Womb
Take it all down:the calendar, the clock,the curio shelf - picture of your ma. Take down those greasy sconcesand those framed flightsof your pigeoned eye. Take down the best of your daysand your rage…your rage.Take down the sheetrock. Punch out all those cagey studswith a sledge - strip out the wireand sell it for scrap.... Continue Reading →
Come Dinnertime
They hung laundries like prayers, these women, there, new to pants, between Beechfield and Brisbane. And all the actions were in the alley, the zipper between, where we, young thuggeries in our dungarees, plied bicycle trades on summer days. Even flies shunned our manes. Fists and spit and baseball cards. Skates and snakes and fenced-in... Continue Reading →
23.5 Degrees
It is not inconceivable some smeared and blind thing, like hail or perhaps some top spun cue ball, maybe some blunt beaked bird wary of our passage, or a bullying stone, unchaperoned in a spiraling sandbox, or a slap to the back of the head by the swift palm of a correcting mother for some... Continue Reading →
