All day I let the house be filled with voices on the news. This morning, my body forgives me for this extra layer of violence. This morning, I leave the house with a book of half-read poems, hold it beside me, my worry stone. Photo credit: Jim Korpi. .
When I drive to my mother’s house I see six or seven near the road, inconspicuous unless you know what to look for. Unless you notice a dark vehicle stopped there. But those are only six or seven. On a map there are nearly two hundred more beyond where I can see. Pack of missiles […]
The sun was shining violently, as if on a mission to see beneath the surface of things. Our cortege wormed its way past row on row of identical white markers, the grounds immaculately groomed, (Not even a single dandelion, the brother noted), and visitors searching for Tomb of the Unknown Soldier. As if […]
Tripoli and Gadamis, Libya, March 2014 1/List Gunfire night and day in the old city doesn’t let up as the aura of exhaustion floats me beyond sleep and the planet on its axis tilts back a degree until the world, off-kilter, spins loose from gravity. I’m back crossing desert hard pan, the militia commander napping […]