for Edward Baugh Flashing silk phantoms from the promontory, when seen at dark rushing to their beds, those lights corroding over Navy Islan...

I am offering this poem to you, since I have nothing else to give. Keep it like a warm coat when winter comes to cover you,...

We have memorized America, how it was born and who we have been and where. In ceremonies and silence we say the words, telling ...

A.k.a.           the other gold.                     Now that’s the stuff,                                shr...

BY CESARE PAVESE TRANSLATED BY GEOFFREY BROCK I’m eating a little supper by the bright window. The room’s already dark,...

I got a nasty paper-cut right where my writing callus used to be. It bled; it hurt; it kept opening back up. I showed it to my daught...

If you write a few words- even half a sentence- like half a sandwich like the soup and half a sandwich deal at Jojo’s restaurant you c...

One bright morning in a restaurant in Chicago as I waited for my eggs and toast, I opened the Tribune only to discover that I was the same a...

 So. A webpage I made for myself many years ago while still working at ASU has all of a sudden gone POOF!  Disappeared without a courtesy wa...

It was a year of pirates in speedboats, anonymous bullies spreading privacies on the Internet, and the worst of them doing worse than that a...

We’re all too young to know when we will die, or what will cause it, too young to discover how little our lives matter, how no amount of ...

Call the roller of big cigars, The muscular one, and bid him whip In kitchen cups concupiscent curds. Let the wenches dawdle in such dre...

There’s just no accounting for happiness, or the way it turns up like a prodigal who comes back to the dust at your feet having squander...

Try to praise the mutilated world. Remember June's long days, and wild strawberries, drops of rosé wine. The nettle...

"Never use the word  suddenly  just to create tension." ––  Writing Fiction Suddenly, you were planting some yellow pet...

As I grow old I will not shuffle to the beat of self-interest and make that slow retreat ​​​to the right. I will be a septuagenarian ...

Windy today and I feel less than brilliant, driving over the hills from work. There are the dark parts on the road when you pass through c...

Now we will count to twelve and we will all keep still for once on the face of the earth, let’s not speak in any language;...

If you have seen the snow under the lamppost piled up like a white beaver hat on the picnic table or somewhere slowly falling into the b...

and I should start shouting his name and clapping my hands, but it has been raining all night and the narrow creek has risen is a tawny turb...

Once in a while, we all succumb to the merely personal. Those glass shards and snipped metal That glitter and disappear and glitter again i...

I am dreaming of a house just like this one but larger and opener to the trees, nighter than day and higher than...