you ever sit next to someone who smells bad and sniff yourself to make sure it’s not you?
Read in The Oakland Review
All the Better
Read at the Iowa Review’s Blog
Surrender (with raised hands)
Before we learned this position for its relevance when faced with a gun you could find my people packed in a sweaty sanctuary — arms raised, wailing, asking God to speak and He spoke, as much as any word is an approximation, a translation, a mother’s ecstatic dance until she falls limp to the floor, […]
Ode to my Uni-brow
Perhaps it is not pronounced enough to easily notice, at least from a distance, but praise be to the hairs populating the Bering Straight, or more accurately crossing the Mediterranean — bridge like cedar planks with black nails, bridge like the boat my jido came here in, bridge to Dearborn, Michigan. The hairs stand up […]