My Father's Father's Body

From the May 2017 Print Edition

My grandpa built a go-cart out of junk:An old lawnmower engine, scraps of metal, A cupboard door, a cushion. The result Was forty miles-per-hour of swerving joy— Flung gravel, wind-snagged bugs, my father’s arms Vined around mine to help me steer. We gunned it past the neighbors’ humdrum . . . . Continue Reading »

Last Stab at Goodness

From the December 2016 Print Edition

I’ll tell you how to be the perfect man:You do a perfect imitationOf someone who would hesitateTo let the real you through the door.You’ll need to smile and nod, smell decent, planAt least one slideshow-worthy week’s vacation,Lug brats to ballgames and stay late,Skip nightcaps, and never . . . . Continue Reading »


From the May 2011 Print Edition

Deep in the country of unbroken clouds, The sundry broken crowds Have wondered for unnumbered years what lies Beyond their numbed gray skies. Some have spun rumors, flimsy as wet straw” A peasant weaver saw Twilled clouds unravel and a golden reed Spike earthward at the speed Of light; a . . . . Continue Reading »