“The Pickle Shelves,” “Scales and Cataracts,” “Conversations Deferred,” and Other Poems

The Pickle Shelves this bomb shelter is packed with corpses, jars of heads line the walls as if waiting to be used as some sort of accompaniment to…


“The Light,” “Dirty American Poem #3,” “The Last Days of the Flu,” and Other Poems

The Light We wait for the bombs to feel us out pass the potatoes, say grace over the odd angels that have watched over us for years through the…