Please note that orders placed between February 1-February 17 will not be shipped until February 17. Thank you for your patience.
She had her feet in the trough, Nosing into the golden corn, When Daddy did a half spin & brought down the sledgehammer. She sank to the mud An oak branch bowed As they tightened the rope To a creaky song of pulley wheels. A few leaves left For the wind to whip down, They…
Open in the name of the law is spoken. This is now known to happen. Then the necessitous fist-fist against door. We slid from under and up from our divan (where viewmastering The 120 Days of Sodom, whistling rap versions of “The Internationale” while subliminally broadcasting passion wrists and paws extended, ready for the cuff,…
Their plans were to develop the valley, and my plans were to stop them. I was caretaking this ranch in Montana that the two of them had bought, or were buying. One of them was an alcoholic and the other was a realtor. The alcoholic-the big one-was from New York and did something on the…
Breakfast by the roadside, my vehicle shimmers like an opal. I'm hunched over a map, savoring the odor of burnt catfish. My carriage is a frisky nightflower on wheels. At this rest station I am careful not to cause injury to the heather, though organisms smaller than arithmetic routinely vaporize upon my approach. So even…
1 We stood so the day slanted Through our dime-store magnifying glass. Girls laughed & swayed, caught On the wild edge of our scent. A scorpion of sunlight crawled Each boy's arm, as we took turns Daring each other to flinch. Not Knowing what a girl's smile did, An oath stitched us to God. 2…
NYC, December 1990 He nose col's he ass but he don' know an' he ain' got no elbow t' practice tellin' things apart. Brass monkey-balls fallin' off— it so friggin' col’. I ain' got no snow-head: I c'n see whole town's in a hurry git t' where it's warm 'n' coffee 'n' hot things to…
A single shout and you were not the one I thought you were. Cowed by stoplights, horrored by the barking muses. I would never get over those boss-beaten days. Mile long arms. A city dense as a broom closet with a baby in a basket. The Judas in the eyes of passersby. One spot of…
Mama Elsie's ninety now. She calls you whippersnapper. When you two laugh, her rheumatism Slips out the window like the burglar She hears nightly. Three husbands & an only son dead, she says I'll always be a daddy's girl. Sometimes I can't get Papa's face Outta my head. But this boy, my great- Great-grandson, he's…
We beat our silver pans to chase the horse back to the woods. Our good white horse— we never fed her, or praised her, or rode her, white as the round moon, this old—ancient— one. Why, mother moon, do we chase her away? Because, foolish, no oats in the bin, no oats in the bin,…
No products in the cart.