Mountain blue on the powerline, preening as the big C-119 heads out low over aspen and yellow pine, dragging slurry to Challis, up by Yankee Fork. Idaho is burning. Hot dogs on sale at The Merc; pleasure craft tearing apart the morning lake send osprey wheeling toward deeper woods. Aspen, osprey— haze over half the…
Bend your back to it, sir: for it will snow all night. How gently they sink — white spiders, multi-bladed bleak things, these first, into the nearly mirror of your shovel's surface. It snows, lightly — wide columns of black between each flake but it will snow all night, and thicker. So, you start now…
Sometimes they left me for the day while they went — what does it matter where — away. I sat and watched her work the dough, then turn the white shape yellow in a buttered bowl. A coleus, wrong to my eye because its leaves were red, was rooting on the sill in a glass…
This is what Ernest whispers to her. "You ever had a man to go down on you? How you like me to be going down on you? How you like that? You like Ernest to eat you out? "You ever suck black cock? How you like suckin me off?" When Miss Foote calls on her,…
An unknown river whose banks drip feathers, orchid petals, wherein live fish mysterious; a medieval scholar, humanist scamp. No, a rare, rich dish, thick with crème fraîche; the local junior high known for annual bake sales. A beautiful African princess, two thousand cows her dowry; a town in New Jersey. A defunct balm or salve;…
for . . . . Beyond anything else, he dwells on what might inhabit his mind at the moment of his death, that which he'll take across with him, which will sum his being up as he's projected into spirit. Thus he dwells upon the substance of his consciousness, what its contents are at any…
"Hi babe" Hidalgo always said. Then as always wordlessly we made love. I was brutal just short of ruining the sex. Then we would lie almost dead. "I've got to go!" I cried suddenly, pulling on my clothes, checking to see they were right-side-out, and running home to Algot who was sick. Hidalgo said he…
All whom I love, all neighbors and relations awry and pure, all intimates of the same heart-paths, all strangers I would know would want to go there, would be compelled thuswards: the most northern, unknown, uninvented, patchy, unvisited on the maps. And I would go with them. In shivering boats, leaky carracks, floats of reed…
I killed the bee for no reason except that it was there and you were watching, disapproving, which made what I would do much worse but I was angry with you anyway and so I put my foot on it, leaned on it, tested how much I'd need to make that resilient, resisting cartridge give…
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