Because I do not have the impetus to do it myself I will leave the bulbs burning bright and diligently change them when they expire I...

Down the hill my egg fell open to reveal a perfect ball; green like a grape and as solid as my skull. When we drank the salt, a witch...

(Ch. 1 & 2) By Jack Moody 1 Sometimes I can float. I can move things without touching them. People  wouldn’t believe me so I don’t tell...

1. Great poets keep soft palms. There’s no poetry in working your hands until the skin calluses to wood and you can sharpen your fingers...

In autumn, silence must’ve been scattered – top of the maple, where the moon hangs   small and yellow. Gibbous sounds, clinging onto...

To the  bumbling bee   I obliterated yesterday,    the one who stung me on the heel mercilessly and whose life  I stomped out, an enraged...

When I got the news that Mom passed away My being filled with such richness of emotion “How do I feel?” I was asked, and I could not say....

curled coiled motionless either resigned to fate or in revolt a recipient nonetheless small droplets still flee...

Today, He can’t recall Where he got the notion That red ants would not bite him, As if he had some kind of force field or Natural...