Spirit Medium

Now that my pen is made of glass I pray to write of this loud tree and not simply fashion—blues and organdies and other appurtenances—taffeta, pagoda sleeves. Now branches scratch the bowl of sky, leaves massed loosely in torsade, flounces deepening to knitted...

Magenta

Once lived a woman wrapped in a magenta skin so brilliant she glowed, but the story doesn’t start like that. It starts with another woman, a woman singular and hungry. People called her E for a number of reasons, least of which was Evelyn, her legal name. Her eyes...

Three Poems

Beastly Beast Even if he was a bull angel, a land whale, a million tumblers of blubber, a horned prevaricator, it took dirty tricks to get him. He put up only one sign: No soliciting. His blunder: to be generous to a fault, his own fault only. He took his body to...

The Seed and The Stone

The Arbor tells us stories of a time before, when all the dead were kept in orchards that rolled endlessly, and had always been there, and people tended to them constantly in gratitude and respect for their ancestors. All the children in the Arboretum are packed into...