Category: Poetry

  Someone spills the deck under the table, picks up almost every card, and the game goes on. You couldn’t know you’d need that three of spades to fill your...

  I drink my whisky neat the rain god’s fingers run down my back pulling at my waistband I’m almost drunk enough to say I’m in but then I...

  I curl up with the mountain lion— his body spans my length and more. Winter stars bridge the canyon above us and the cliff is still red with its shadowy ...

  From your distance it must seem as if the run-off is gone, the big storm leveled now like a calm ocean, so that only ripples remain of the pain, the debr...

  Fuel, then, that car filled to the rear window with newspapers and monthly magazines, all mixed with white envelopes, all loosely cascading over the fron...

  The incision across her abdomen Almost fully disappeared. She circles a finger in the air, Imitating the umbilical cord’s coil Around the neck, The way t...

  We have reached this place. A continent’s end-stop made whole. Fir, cedar, the old Chinook wood. Glacial water meets the ocean all morning. Sand in our s...

  –Life magazine headline, July 4, 1969 When I was young I wanted to go to the moon but I’ve only made it to Milwaukee, which is to say I have learned &nbs...

  Sitting that night by the fire, all she could think was how the logs had segmented to look like a spine. You were saying something about your life, but t...

  Because it starts with a small white flower in the Theobroma cacao tree whose name means “food for the gods.” Because chocolate is old and well-traveled,...