a lineis only asentence that stops then anotherlife rhymeswith lifewe are all living rhymeswho look tofinish their sentencesthere is noend ofspeakingmaybe without knowing itwe are…
Nothing distinguishes a human being from other creatures (including other humans themselves) like memory. Each of us are unique in our experiences and their associated…
Not too many memories here, in these chic walls caught in the daily grind. But between the walls there are those truths—whistling through the subway…
“The artist’s life is romantic to everyone but him.” An Artist is Born It begins, or ends like this: one day you’re in the back…
We return to the Grand Pacific Hotelin Suva, Fiji, but it is not the way it was or what we thought it was:the cold lobster almost…
There’s a temporary campground, with a tent,billowing-white, just off Sprague Ave. in Tacoma. Keep your daughter home. Make popcorn with salt,buttery-warm. Let her watch the…
The tiny cottage in the woods is abandoneduntil the woman whose husband drinkstakes refuge thereafter a bender,without regret.The woman loves her husband,and this is how…
Every author gets asked—cornered, perhaps—to say succinctly: What’s your book about? Two ex-cons murder a family of four in Kansas and, after the crime and…
A pedicure is an archaeological expedition, if those feet belong to your mother. A part of this country was your beginning of history. A faded…
“You shouldn’t wear red. It’s not slimming. You need dark colors to minimize your weight. Are you listening to me?” Margie walked away from Vivian’s…
Kyle used to be pretty. He used to stop them in their tracks. He pretended he didn’t notice how mouths hung open and brains whirred…
(Rosa Bonheur, Rue des Tournelles, Paris 1836) My easel billetedbetween stove and painting chest,Most mornings Papa teachesat an atelier for young ladies,later portrait sittings–a Portuguesefactory…
You did not want it. When it came you’d have to enter that veiled, silent place where the women lived, and the things you loved—the…
I set the time coordinates for May, the year 2020, ten years from now,I made the jump but, much to my dismay, to a parallel…
What you seek is seeking you, Sara reads, a languid smile on her 26-year-old lips as she flips through a faded blue notebook and pauses,…