From the Lower Depths: for Dorothea Lange
A living room in the street beneath the freeway where a dog barks 24/7 tied to a clothes line a sawhorse corralled near a barbecue pit pallets and bedspreads rescued
A living room in the street beneath the freeway where a dog barks 24/7 tied to a clothes line a sawhorse corralled near a barbecue pit pallets and bedspreads rescued
God’s Infidels we drive to Pecanland on Sunday morning everyone else is in church it’s the new blockbuster Star Trek into Darkness purchase tickets wait inside a 450-seat food court
My cat went missing. The same day I lost my car keys. These things happen in pairs. Which is why I’m anxious. On the bus I check my backpack a
She stood in the aisle dancing, her hands undulated in rivulets. Earbuds in, pencil thin jeans. Later when a bunch of people exited she sat down next to me and
I always told him no one would ride in a black bus. Wouldn’t listen. Threw away his money to redo the fleet. Told him the bus came off like a
1. At West End Mall Up Radnoti Miklos utca, street named after the Hungarian Jewish poet who died in labor camps months before liberation in a city that volunteered Jews