December 1, 2013

A Poem-Prayer for the First Sunday of Advent

You came into this world with a tattered welcome, Son— with seething happinesses and coffee blacked and bitter. You came, and here we lie— a fractured […]
May 20, 2013

The Daily Darg

Do you remember father, black and blue —growling, sagging, climbing through the dirty light dismissing work that day?— as if the weight of hacking stubs were […]
March 27, 2013

The Art of Mourning

Ruthlessly, I send out mail after the casket bakes in dust, three feet below. “Thank you for knowing him,” the letters read in scrawled kindergarten print. […]
March 27, 2012

My Father, Who Art in Heaven

He leaned against the warped oaken desk that had only three legs, and he only one. One and a splintering cane. On his rayon cuffs, the […]