Archive for October, 2010

Writers’ Bloc: “The Random Wind” and “My Two Hearts”

My poems “The Random Wind” and “My Two Hearts” are now online as part of Issue 13 (July 2010) of Writers’ Bloc. You can read them there or here:

The Random Wind

It would happily topple ancient trees
as spread the seeds of saplings.

Clouds shred like white caps at sea, or sit
like lilies in lagoons on languid days.

Our common medium of sound and breath
may one moment bring us nothing
but the lonely scrapes of leaves,

or following us around the bend,
it may please us indiscreetly:
gently lifting the hair off
someone’s shoulder
or the skirt it goes beneath.

My Two Hearts

This alpha-omega inside my chest
wants its steady rhythm
and nothing more:
It would march me like a drumbeat
from pillow to pillow
with familiar protocols and bowties
precisely in the middle.
It wishes me a mellow, two-step dance,
proper punctuation,
a healthy liver, and a level floor.

But I will not be shaped
by this monotonous hammer.
My true heart has never
been up my sleeve.
I’ll go where my passions take me,
till this cold clock between my lungs
turns on me in rage
and throws me to the ground I stand upon
to make me pay.


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Foundling Review and Yes, Poetry

I’m excited to share several recent publications! Foundling Review has published my poem “Self-Eclipse” in their July 2010 issue.

And my poem “Walk Off the Earth” was featured in Issue 3 of Yes, Poetry. Thank you so much to the editors of these journals!

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Creek Road Gang: “Homework,” “Early Morning Prayer,” “Hometown Departure,” and “Passage.”

I’m pleased to share that Creek Road Gang has published four of my poems in their June 2010 issue. You can also read them here:


In science class we learned that
the hottest point of steam is at
the tip of the teapot spout:
dangerously transparent
until it makes contact
with the cooler air.

After school, I do my homework
upstairs in my room.
My younger sister stays
in her own space, playing family.

At the top of the hour,
the clock clicks four.
We hear
the factory whistle
spewing billows of relief.
                    Our dad works there.

I hear my mom pace;
she crosses the floor
to adjusts the thermostat
in the kitchen below.

Maybe today, she will have
a kind word for wrath, or
she’ll have saved or made money,
or she will sit with him and a beer.

The front door slams.
                    I reach for the newspaper
                    and turn to the weather.

Read more: “Early Morning Prayer,” “Hometown Departure,” and “Passage”

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Concise Poems: “Looking through the Big End of the Telescope,” “Innocence,” “Camp of Dreams,” and “Unfinished Business”

My poems “Looking through the Big End of the Telescope,” “Innocence,” “Camp of Dreams,” and “Unfinished Business” appeared in the Summer 2009 issue of Concise Delight, a biannual print magazine dedicated to publishing the very best of very short verse. Concise Delight is print-only: here’s how to get your own copy.

Looking Through the Big End of the Telescope

Time’s expanse is reversed in the mind:
Years are framed in snapshots and windows.
Entire summers hang on rows of clotheslines.
Weeks and months are like fields of clover,
              or countless needles on boughs of pine.
While the present is a blur of collapsing moments,
              the endless shaft of a shrinking mine.



White clouds of summer,
pristine and rising,
know nothing more of the fall
just behind them
than young girls swinging alone in the park
tossing their hair toward the hard soil below,
as blue dresses billow and open legs greet
the cooling breeze that lifts them
aloft in their lark.


Camp of Dreams

Dreams at dawn fade like voices in the woods
from a gathering of hunters at the end of their trail.

There, they huddle in the mist
to trade one last tale of stalking game—
stitching vapor into legends as full of stuffing
as animal heads mounted in a dusty den.

Then as the coals of their fire hiss and the nest of ashes dies,
the hunters recede into a glen near the bog of the mind,
just before one’s eyes open wide.


Unfinished Business

Again we awake unchanged and tired
from the night’s heavy clench.
We fought each other less to win
than to find out if we could last.

Our hearts trade sighs, and our voices
are slacken with hesitations and mumblings.
Our hopes have become as inert as sand
at the bottom of an hourglass.

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