In this vast and choppy ocean of conversation, we have so much to lose. Moisture, mostly, that easy lubrication of vein and tongue, heart and lung, thought and word. In…
We could have been happy. In the shriek of the gales hear our seven sons wail. Did I not warn you, beloved? Did I not ask for just one thing—…
I. Immovable Ana looked for Miguel in the café where they had met Sunday mornings. She hurried through their favorite bookstore, glancing down each aisle, and along the bridge where…
In July the dandelions glowed so hard they threatened to burn anything within reach. Now they’re almost invisible, the lawn a field of wishes tossed in wind. I’ve…
My cabin is hung with pelts to dry/ the air thick with gore and loneliness. It sits in a shadowy copse/pines giving shelter when I need it most. When the…
There once was a princess with a star on her forehead who had to give her voice to save her brothers, who had become birds. She was to be silent…
1. Today, I sense so many small men crouching just off the trail: carved from Mayan knives; Etruscan-faced, empty-eyed. When I turn to look, they become slabs of stone. 2.…
With just a casual glance into the swamp when the fog lifts, it’s possible to spot them abandoned there on a rotting stump, she had to leave in such a…
He found her in the woods, meandering through the ferns along a deer path, and he felt that cold sweat of searching lift from him. She moved in short steps,…
It pours. Lawns bulge with big eyes, bubbles of throats, bellies slick with dew. Long legs tangle in barbecue grills, in clotheslines. The air becomes thick with the smell of…
Gingerbread House Lit Mag 