The January After Turning 65
Two Weeks Before. A frozen morning. Outside, an army of bone white trees. An icy clear sky. Birds pecking at the kitchen window. You say, 'it's only a number' the…
Selling Poetry
A small blonde girl wearing worn dirty sneakers squats against a service door in the rain and pees on crumpled papers, wrappers, a notice announcing ‘thirty percent off all dresses…