mothers

Phantom Bite | Nonfiction

Phantom Bite | Nonfiction

I can’t tell you for sure if the bat bit me; it seems important to establish that up front. What I can tell you is that when I woke it was circling my head, letting out those high-pitched squeaking sounds reminiscent of a loose wheel on a shopping cart. It was dark,...
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...
Hope is a Strategy | Nonfiction

Hope is a Strategy | Nonfiction

The second time Obama Fever flared, I was going on three months in Wilmington, North Carolina, struggling to find a foothold in my new setting and not at all fitting in. I’d felt a sort of unbridled optimism during Obama’s 2008 campaign, from “Yes We Can” as a slogan...