The Visit

The visit from my sister looks like this: Through the door, here she comes. Boots treading mud into the new rug. “It’s dry,” she says, “don’t worry, it’ll be easy to clean.” Clomp, clomp, clomp. Suddenly the pedals are spinning faster than they have all week on the new exercise…

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British Holiday

British Holiday

Let me tell you how to have a British holiday. It should rain every day. Forget your umbrella though, and leave the car window … View Post
Wednesdays

Wednesdays

Palm comes crashing down onto the table as you thrust your papers into my face. “What is this?” you demand, spitting in your fury, … View Post
The Man at the Station

The Man at the Station

You are just ahead of me as I cross the bridge. I see your legs bent and broken, and I think: I’m thankful … View Post
These Eyes

These Eyes

A long time ago, inspired by my discovery of zines, I created a few poetry pieces for a collection to self-publish.  I found one … View Post