thunder saw the eye of storm, it saw cuttingwind, hail crashing down hard. mud on streets,snapped limbs swooped,zig-zag bolted sky.…

my grandfather isgrains of sand floatingto the bottom of anhourglass. he is a sundial measuring flashesby the wrinkles of hisskin.…

my father is an overgrown jungle.which is to say, his flowers aretangled in the vines. he is a creeper on…

fingering the beads heldtogether by a metal chain,i’m bonded to my father.my attic pulls up scenes ofus in church pews,…

the brain is a stronghold caging acute points of drawn-out rolls of film.memoirs are whirling records, unceasing in speed, I…

In the New England dirt, freshmen parents planted roots. A mom, dad, andchild drove around town spotting fledgling land. Settlers…

from the dock with metal bars, we threw lines into the sunlit lake. lures sankto the biting bottom, as worms…