#AmericanWriters
We stripped in the first warm spri… and ran down into the Detroit Riv… to baptize ourselves in the brine of car parts, dead fish, stolen bi… melted snow. I remember going unde…
If you were twenty-seven and had done time for beating our ex-wife and had no dreams you remembered in the morning, you might
Lately the wind burns the last leaves and evening comes too late to be of use, lately I learned that the year has turned
A blue jay poses on a stake meant to support an apple tree newly planted. A strong wind on this clear cold morning barely ruffles his tail feathers.
Remember how unimportant they seemed, growing loosely in the open fields we crossed on the way to school. We would carve wooden swords
Words go on travelling from voice to voice while the phones are stil… and the wires hum in the cold. Now and then dark winter birds settle slowly on the crossbars, where hud…
Half an hour to dress, wide rubber… gauntlets to the elbow, a plastic… like a knight’s but with a little… that kept steaming over, and a res… to save my smoke-stained lungs. I…
Everyone loves a story. Let’s beg… We can fill it with careful rooms… with things—tables, chairs,… closed to hide tiny beds where chi… or big drawers that yawn open to r…
She wakens early remembering her father rising in the dark lighting the stove with a match scraped on the floor. Then measuri… water for coffee, and later the sm…
Newspaper says the boy killed by s… don’t say who. I know the mother,… gets up as usual, washes her face in cold water, and starts the coff… She stands by the window up there…
The long lines of diesels groan toward evening carrying off the breath of the living. The face of your house
We live here because the houses are clean, the lawns run right to the street and the streets run away. No one walks here.
19 years old and going nowhere, I got a ride to Bessemer and walk… the night road toward Birmingham passing dark groups of men cursing the end of a week like every week.
This has nothing to do with war or the end of the world. She dreams there are gray starlings on the winter lawn and the buds of next year’s oranges alongside
He fears the tiger standing in his… The tiger takes its time, it smile… Like moons, the two blank eyes tug… “God help me now,” is all that he… “God help me now, how close I’ve…