On the morning / of my autistic son’s twentieth birthday / I visit bringing cake and groceries / that he will eat alone / and I wonder if his house will ever have its church.
Every House Has its Church
The Humid Temptations
My father closed his word, laid down the red crayon he used to mark pages, perhaps from Leviticus, For it is the jubilee; it shall be holy unto you: you shall eat the increase thereof out of the field.
Theory of Everything
I / want a theory of everything / / a theory that begins / in one place and connects / to another like this river
After Abel
I settled into the trees to wait for God. / Bullfrogs called, GROW. GROW. / Night’s dry mists involved the air.
Jonah Complex
I am stuck / as a minnow in a child’s little bucket. / I’m being carried, sloshing, back / to someone else’s mother
On Florida backroads, heaven
grows at an angle / from the earth serpentine moss / adorns its low bent
Hiatus
Three swans spin slowly on the water. I am seated / on the nearby patchy dirt and see / jagged mountains scratch up together.
Book Review: Took House, by Lauren Camp
Opening with hunger and appetite, Took House, an alluringly haunting poetry collection, invites the reader to the table to dip in and out of love, obsession, and what remains hidden.
Donar’s Oak
On a tree-thick road snaking towards a thatched-roof village Boniface had asked a little wench: How big is Gaesmere? Finally, he had almost preached his way out of the land of the Saxons and into Hessia. How heavy is the trunk, how close to Heaven does it reach?
Psaltery & Lyre 