After Craig Arnold’s “Meditation on a Grapefruit” To wake bare feet into cool tile glassied by the pall of...
Creative Work
The caldera of the volcano Ijen is faded gray and completely silent. The sulfur gas keeps out all animal life—no...
Every day since I arrived in Paris, I have gone to the same bookstore,the one next to the Panthéon. I’m...
New York, May-June Today I put on a rain jacket for the walk to my driving lesson. The drizzle is...
Returning from a walk, we reach our house and see the light
burst a hole through the living
Each blueberry broke its thin shell
and bled, turning the whole pancake sick.
Summer pollen settled
on the taupe plywood fence you leaned over
I keep my window open when I’m afraid to go outside. But the weather’s been good—warm and honest, in that when one day is seventy degrees, the next few are too.
I did not see the iwi kūpuna¹, but their presence hollowed my bones. Beside me in the cramped backseat of...