a porcine squeal
from the microwave
breakfast sausage
a porcine squeal
from the microwave
breakfast sausage
shucking oysters
the talk turns
to our inner lives
night rain
the crickets too
have stopped to listen
all the way down
to low E, the trombonist’s
eyebrows
in the gondolas
tourists photograph tourists
photographing them
poetry reading
the smell of humus
in the drizzling rain
flower show
the woman with the glads
undoes a button
at a crossroads
summer wind
through prairie grass
previously published in: Jim Applegate, ed., Small Canyons 4 Anthology (2009),
straight furrowed fields
all the things I wish
I could unsay
previously published in Jim Applegate, ed., Small Canyons 4 Anthology
Missouri highway
this night there’s only me
and a radio preacher
my journey begins:
a few snowflakes
flutter in the breeze
shortest day—
the waiting room clock
at the ICU
moonrise
moonset
your nakedness