Poems

“I read the line over and over / as if I might discern / the little fires set / the flames of an idea licking the page”

“Illumination,” Natasha Trethewey

Hummingbirds

Hummingbirds

When my father was eighty years old and mellowing, he decided to win the Publishers Clearing House Sweepstakes. Since he was well-off financially, he said, “If I win the ten million dollars, I’ll give it to you son, and your family will be set for life.” Of course, I...
Practicing the Faith of the Indiana Grandma

Practicing the Faith of the Indiana Grandma

A voice stained with black Folgers and Misty cigarettes, Maw-Maw begins her afternoon sermon to us, the stale boozed stench high school sophomores, on the benefits and pitfalls of early promiscuity— because that is a woman’s world after all. Granting this wisdom from...
Request Radio, Saturday Night

Request Radio, Saturday Night

After a two-pitcher Sangria dinner after three days tarring the biggest roof in Travelers Rest, he’s waiting for Darlene who’s been under that roof for twenty minutes, getting the guilt-free frozen dessert they’ll eat at her place. He’s hoping she’ll surprise him but...
Warp & Weft: Surrender Betsy, Ms. Ross

Warp & Weft: Surrender Betsy, Ms. Ross

Warp & Weft: Surrender Betsy, Ms. Ross Deep winter. Quiet at its lowest frequency. You are founding a religion with your rage. Rage threads the needle, rage snaps the thread, rage unspools your patriotic intentions. You are knitting beneath bald trees with their...