The Oppressor and the Oppressed Within
Days shy of my fortieth birthday, attended a class with master writing teacher Laleh Khadivi: in San Francisco at Christina Garcias’s Las Dos Brujas. A new meaning emerged…
Stories Poems Essays
The Grey House Didn’t Speak
No people remain to lift their hands in farewell. Home does not speak. It does not call out our names as we move up the steps onto the plane. It does not call out as if to say…
Catalpa Tree
Go down the gravel road past the farm where a family lived in a boxcar, past the field with longhorn cattle When you hear donkeys bray, you are almost there.
How to Leave
I have a piece of turquoise beach glass.The second rarest color, after orange. It sits collecting dust between…
Baby Make Like a Tree
i want to stick my fingers between all of your leaves i want to run my hands over your knots : step my bare feet onto your roots : sink against…
Bread Knife
Mama and Barry mashed lumpy boiled potatoes into furrows with their forks, spread sour cream on top. I hated it. Mama cooked this every night, except the weekends when we had stringy boiled chicken.
Relation Ship and Other Poems
Relation ship of fools, the two of us set adrift squared to the sea, no rudder, no captain, no sails to see us through,unclear who is looking ahead the other behind us, just us. There were others but now just us asking…
Neon
Dave looked at the neon sign in the corner of the bar window: ‘DEAD END.’ Even though the name…
Writing Myself Alive: An Episodic Poem
Writing to keep calm Haiku in the seminar Villanelle at dusk Desperation firmly anchored in the stormy sea of…