vanishing aubade
O bobolink. The bobolink is deadat my door — found leaving my apartmentto school then to work. After some searching, I guess it’s a bo...
The Sound of Roots
We come from the mountains, we have wolfin our blood, we have pinebarb. It is our cabinteeth,we have shotguncousins and dirtdress babiesa...
During a Beat Bobby Flay marathon I think —
I should study knife skills
or fish deboning. Have you
ever held fresh, dead chicken? I have
not, though, I have...
hit and run
Trees living in their skin-smell, Appalachia has no need of my white poet
blouse and ripped jeans. The world as I knew it, gone, white as cotton...
A Child Testifies, Rage
by Imran Khan
I find the court bundles,
find the judge who
smeared my face with war paint,
fingered my veins for Pakistani valves like
m...
