I’m sitting on my patio on this second day of summer. The previous evening, the sky remained a dusky rose until after 9 pm. This morning I washed my floors
Before the chain letters of black and white were placed before my eyesInducting me into a history That began on slave ships launched from West AfricaMade me promise to see a
Thumbnail portraitsthe twelve-point questionnaire, did you sleep okay, what are you cooking do you have friends, do you pick your nose pay your bills, wash your undiesthe mundane multiplied but
In the olden days, everyone rushed outside the house, spellbound by the alarm clock, the cellphone, the cat or dog scratching to get outside. A rush to the bathroom fogging
“The apprehensions of the people were likewise strangely increased by the error of the times…” Daniel Defoe, Journal of the Plague Year Shoes or no, I can fly, something that
gulled by centurions, visions ofbodies stacked in air-conditioned trailerswaiting to be booked into the same motel, I stand by a protected shoreline wearing a mask–gaze into the stained glass of ocean,and