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Aging
Poetry
The Hairdresser
sees the old woman — wheelchair bound, pushed by her daughter — glance / out the window, and goes in back / to fetch a shower cap. The woman tugs her daughter’s shirt and says, almost / inaudibly, It’s raining. / And it is raining. Barely.
July 2020Poetry
Selected Poems
— from “Wanting Not Wanting” | I wish I didn’t / want things / to be other / than they are
June 2020Fiction
Waiting For The Coywolf
I’ve read about a new creature called a “coywolf” — the offspring of a coyote and a timber wolf. That must have been what I saw. Waiting for it to reappear gives me something to do.
January 2020
Poetry
Kenny
after my mother’s funeral standing in the receiving line just / below the altar rail shaking hands with people I hardly knew / when Kenny a face I hadn’t seen in twenty years appeared and / grabbed me and hugged me so damn hard the wind went out / of me
November 2019Essays, Memoirs & True Stories
Someone To Listen
The first time he calls the talk line, it’s because he wants to die. Whatever has happened in his brain has made him a stranger to himself.
November 2019
Poetry
What Was Astonishing
What was astonishing / was that after a summer of running around the yard / and dragging our rubber dinghy a mile to the lake and rowing / and doing backflips off the dinghy and bicycling around the lake
October 2019Poetry
The Extra Year: Selected Poems
— from “Almost Done” | My wife has taken Pepper to the vet this morning. She is losing her hair, doesn’t like her food, has growths on her skin, moves slowly after eighty-four dog years.
October 2019Poetry
The Middle-Aged Joggers
We gather beside the pond in great ragged flocks, like birds. We run. Knees and backs stiff, we run — along the available routes, the ones before us, the paved and unpaved paths.
October 2019Essays, Memoirs & True Stories
Unexpected Things
A notorious buffoon is elected to the highest office in the land. He lies, cheats, connives, and endangers the planet and all its inhabitants. Did anyone expect this?
September 2019
Poetry
Holy The Body
I’ve thought so little of you that now / you seek your revenge in the grinding / of kneecaps, the tightening of hamstrings, / loss of elasticity, the skin. So long neglected, / you weren’t even an afterthought.
July 2019
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