“Blind Vines,” “When I Think of You,” “The Groundling,” and Other Poems

Blind Vines We are blind vines,             Spiraling, grasping,…


Avoiding Heaven

He stared at the back of her head, fearing to look left or right, but also living with the realization that this was the only contact that was…


The Pruners

I am writing this with the full knowledge that I may not live long enough to complete it. I have come under the suspicion of the Pruners. There is a…


Knock! Knock!

I’ve been listening to a persistent knock for the last ten minutes. I check my Arlo camera alert and, sure enough, there is a man dressed in a black…


The Prostitute

It was a dry summer, filled with new experiences. I was heading home after months of being on the road, hitchhiking, sometimes alone, sometimes with…


The Grenade

To look at him, you’d think there was nothing particularly unusual about Collier. He was just an average guy, though uncommonly nice. It’s true that…


Snick!

There was a satisfying weight in his hands. Weight meant significance, weight implied power and meaning. He had hold of a chunk of steel with power…


Jack Tone Road

The Central Valley spreads out like a giant patchwork quilt. Green squares of orchards, brown rectangles of newly tilled ground, ready for seed. The…