She sits on a bench wearing a carved tree resin rose black garbage bag filled with acorns, eucalyptus leaves, her bandages of flesh. Whatever she finds she stuffs into her
Last night I crossed the condo’s parking lot, caught my towel on an open metal gate soaked in a Jacuzzi during a lunar eclipse, moonlight spreading in the sky like
This is a story of two coffee shops that face each other on opposite sides of the street. One is General Arthur’s, named after a World War II veteran who
Inside the discolored sink of her hands, a woman leans over a single spark. Hers alone to nurse this foul splinter. To smother with rocks or feed with her breath?
This is a story about Randy and June, who lived in the Land of Silence. Every day they walked five miles outside the city to pick walnuts from the walnut
There was a telephone pole two inches tall. One night in New York City on January 3, 1948 at three o’clock in the morning, the pole said, “I wish I
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