Someone’s daughter loves to dance. Any unheard music seems to do, and any partner. The table’s shimmed leg attends her lifted heel. She gain...

Some times of day don’t show themselves direct—they’re just reflected on the surface, skittish moments slinking down to drink, rippling indi...

. I am talking you away from the lover who promised to be faithful – that isn’t a typo, and that lover’s still me. Get into the car. That’s ...

. Time again, each morning when we wake – and place too – us, then me, you – separate sides for swinging out our legs, a day taking place (w...

This caterpillar’s hibernaculum is flawed, frost invaded. No butterfly or moth bums an insulated ride. The metal playground slide conducts t...

You wear it and it snows: tracks empty the park outside the museum. A promo pen blues your breast-pocket lining, and a snag starts to pull a...

We play cowboy so long our canteens go dry and when our mother gives us root beer we call it sarsaparilla. We wear matching six-shooters but...

We sit in the back, each with an arm crooked out a window, miles on end, not passing a word. Pressed to our doors, undeclared, we compete: w...

This grass that is looked at looks different from grass that is not. For one thing it’s greener than your eyes. But that’s just because your...

Literally the shining one, she greets me from a window seat exactly the height of her knee. A perfectly horizontal lap, backlit by glassy su...

A haibun poem may tell or give an impression of an actual or imagined experience. It is written in prose and differs from the standard haib...

Sand isn’t land, nor is it sea. Shore is where both or neither want to be. Can’t say the same about air. This boat won’t stir until it fresh...

Our first married buy is an 1860 bed that has made it to the States by container ship. English, we think, but French, we are told, chateau f...

The cornfield filled with whispering follows us as we skirt it, our voices husky and the sharp stalk leaves keeping us from cutting through....