family tragedy

Martha | Poetry

Martha | Poetry

you unknown root my wild card I had you, old woman with still-dark hair squatting by the wood stove hardly glancing at the tiny girl, the post-war baby. my daddy told me we were Blackfoot from you. so in cowboy games I wore backyard feathers. later in his dream west...
Refrigerator Poem | Poetry

Refrigerator Poem | Poetry

I thought cold rot would be better than warm rot, so I turned the breaker back on after the renters left a family’s worth of food in the fridge, but the heat got to it before I did, liquefied the butter and ice cream, pressurized the soda cans so that I had to...
Broken | Poetry

Broken | Poetry

One glove is all he can handle. Two screws set in his arm through the plate and bone. It was dark when it happened, that day in the mill house. The saw shrieked and sheared the blade, stopping with a fleshy thump between the radius and ulna, like the chop of a cleaver...