Hands and Feet
Whenever we took the subway to Orchard Beach,
my father held my hand until the last stop
at Pelham Bay Park where we waited for the bus
Whenever we took the subway to Orchard Beach,
my father held my hand until the last stop
at Pelham Bay Park where we waited for the bus
Broken-in shoes gather molded arches beneath an army of dangling limbs. Some wait, collars upturned, yearning to be made whole. Bare wire hangers dig meatless fingers into sagging woolen shoulders,
When I think of the witch in Hansel and Gretel, I think of my kindergarten teacher from P.S. 48 in the Bronx, Mrs. Burke. Her one saving grace
She spoke with a Hungarian accent, her speech
bordered on vines and blue forget-me-nots
It’s been a year since I arrived in the northeastern portion of Louisiana, a wilderness and a wonderland to a northerner who has never lived south before. I’ve been introduced
When I drove to Jackson, Mississippi to meet with several members of the Writer’s Guild for lunch, I discovered the answer to a question that I’d been asking myself for a long
Collaborative Zoom Reading: Maw Shein Win, Lenore Weiss, Alex Mattraw & Tiff Dressen
7-8pm
Thursday, March 26, 2026Clio’s Books, 353 Grand Avenue, 7pm to 9pm Influence, Reinvention & Work that EnduresLenore Weiss, Lee Rossi & Paul Corman-Roberts
Friday, April 17, 2026
National Poetry MonthSF Writers Grotto, 5-7 pm1663 Mission Street, #602
San Francisco, CA