In Sickness and In Health

I recently learned two bits of news that chilled me marrow-through: my childhood skating rink is going to be torn down and Madrid is...

Whatever your youngest relation says to do do it without question. If she hands you an empty bottle to wish inside then whisper whatever you can...

I’ve never been able to read much non-fiction, always lamented my impatience for it. And yet now I find I’m unable to put down...

Could this be madness, this? ~Sylvia Plath Beyond all dusky upstairs rooms, their doors fastened tight, locked by skeleton keys I’ve lost in some drawer of the mind,...

after quarantine binge-watching I did not stay up to pen a poem while screening Scottish history slipshod neo-porn with unaccented moans. This series has got me going five episodes a...

Roman is running the LA marathon. It’s no touch. No high fives. No kissing. It’s the time of the virus. What might   have been if the world...

I. “I saw Grandma Rosie,” he said, referring to his mother, who’d been dead for two years. I remained visibly calm. I’d flown to Baltimore early to...

After you've read this poem, place it on your kitchen table From the top of the poem, fold down a flap of your fear; from...

“You want to hear about all the times I’ve had tubes shoved up my penis?” There’s a sentence I never thought I would ever speak...

for Bree Cameron In the Year and Era of Our Quarantine  Your tears wander the vacant streets at night, One fluvial wet footstep at a time Desolate  & ...

I think of you as a radio frequency— sometimes hard to find   as I touch the illuminated dial. But tonight you arrive   murmuring into my ear in halfsleep;   you...

No figures here but pulse, breath and pressure; no metonymy of fate but a real hand cold upon a real sheet. What could any actor speak more...