He strides into storms, he wades into pools of silt.
No one could mistake me for a department-store model but I’ve kept my figure— not an inch of overflow, nothing to shock a stare. Express myself remains the motto, but … Continue reading
Even a person like you, paddling away in your outrigger canoe, counting strokes and plotting interviews with fans (or, contrariwise, splitting your proud bow on a sharp rock and girding … Continue reading
. First Voice Vibrating with sinusitis and a gum infection, I shift from one foot to the other as my father, your big brother, creaks down onto his … Continue reading
Nevertheless, blindly, we smile: and again our ancient vision sponges paint and sunlight, our ears prick at the stuttering clock, the hiss of tires on pavement. Blindly, a thought tumbles … Continue reading
My son is seventeen years old, and he has a broken heart. Of course I also had a broken heart when I was seventeen, but what does that matter? My … Continue reading