Robin Bernstein’s art show, a nine-year project composed of sixteen individual pieces, tells a story that will break and uplift your heart. My guess is that it’s unlike anything you’ve
I didn’t move from Chicago to get married or start a new job. I decided to nurse a robin heart by getting away from the stink of Lake Michigan, and
Back then, a thistle wore a skirt of blossoms.Death streaked your toenails blue. I asked if I was wrong in leaving you.Walking along Leona Canyon, I answered no. The manicurist
I’ve never seen a picture of Bob Dylanas a baby girl but who knows one day the photo may pop up someone swearing on social media it’s Bobby scowling at
A story shining from every windowno third wall separating the storefrom the shopper, the poem from the poet shape, light, and color those were his stock in tradea socialist and Jewish
I’m exiled in a countrybetween two great waterswhere tornados churn housesinto toothpicks, a mall that used to grow corn. Lunch-time I serve french fries a uniform disguisewith few requirementsnodding yes or no until I disappear