Peeoy In a dictionary with scorched edges, my daughter finds the Scottish word for homemade firework, a twisted cone of gunpowder, lit at the top. Darkening the room, and...

    The Last Chorus Girl of the West She is a long way from the old saloon, the boarded windows of Father’s face, the self playing piano like a harmonica in the pocket of a hanging man -...

      There is Art by the Side of the Road for Truck Drivers I saw Van Gogh by the side of the road I saw Van Gogh leant up by a lamppost I saw his blue iris glow stuffed in and left...

      The Hoarder Cleans Out   It is impossible to label the boxes after a life of miscellany. I name them all after members of my family, most of whom were named after each...

    The Emperors of Ice That feeling of flying in a medium thicker than mere air that feeling of not knowing how cold can hurt if feathers fail, or fat thins that feeling of seeing season...

      The Fold Mick brings another bucket in from the coal house and shovels coal onto the fire, reducing the flames to smoke. He throws on another lot of coal. ‘Do you think you’ll...

    Homecoming While the cheesecake thawed, you were growing cold on the kitchen floor. On the reddening strawberries I saw the OCD impress of your fingers as I opened the backdoor. I sat...

      The Call My mind resists the heart’s need to travel from its solitary throne of bone and skin. I also know this: his voice is a castle, so I pick up the phone and walk in....