Prose Poem No. 19

In the mornings, on the weekdays, I sit on the sofa and watch the bluejays. Their color doesn’t blend well with dirt, rock, and brush—but at least for the robin, its color does. I hear the birds more often than I see them, see them more often than I know them: which is the one […]


For my siblings Find someone who makes you laugh so hard, your nose starts bleeding. Someone who’ll press a cold washcloth to your nose to make that bleeding stop (but not necessarily the laughter). Someone who buys you flowers when your sister’s cat dies, and someone who drives you and your cat to the pet […]

Things I left with you

On the stovetop, a half eaten blueberry pie from one of our nightly Meijer runs. Leftover fries and half a burger (probably spoiled now) in the fridge (you know, the ones from the Irish pub where you didn’t order a drop of alcohol, told me you haven’t felt anything since you stopped drinking, and I […]


Maybe if I write these words slowly, it will make them hurt less. I can’t remember what I wrote yesterday, but it had that dizzying effect that swings sometimes have: nauseating, like maybe I should have kept my feet planted on the ground. But I have always loved the idea of flying, and being on […]


There was a warning on the radio this morning. Stay away. Stay alive. The announcer said it twice. And maybe she meant fallen electrical wires, but my thoughts wandered to you. Keep your distance, at least twenty-five feet, she said. Contact with live wires causes death. Stay away. Stay alive. But I drove to your […]