Prose & Poetry

To make love a character would be to initiate doomsday, because one would need destruction to […]

SYMMETRY OF STONES It is a short climb to the shallow saddle beyond the ridgetop. A

The first man I killed was myself,             deskbound,       hunched above translated lines           of

          I couldn’t stop altogether my periodic jaunts to the dives, those upper-lower hangouts frequented

Sound travels uninterrupted as long as it has a medium to travel through. Up here in

“Whatever commandment the prisoner has disobeyed is written upon his body by the Harrow.” In the

For Peter When he asks for a ride to cardiology, I get there early before dawn

I didn’t expect it to hurt so much. Or that I would miss it. The pain

North The last rays touch the snowy waste, fierce flames of fiery red and gold gleam