Down the street, rather along Highway 165, I turned off at Cross Keys Bank to open an account and deposit a check from West End Press in payment for my trip to
Dueling election signs on front lawns. On the right, a candidate condemns the federal government, another appears on TV and says nothing . She grabs the end of a silver
In the cigar smoke of an autumn day as pecans dropped to the ground, he drove his SUV to a cream-colored building at the outskirts of a university where students and others in need of fifty dollars toward a bag of groceries lined up for a number.
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
to drop us off behind the bath house.
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