Fiction

Poetry

50s Dresses

Floral straight jackets hiding women
It’s too pretty to get dirty.

Poetry

The God in the Attic

In our attic, among things, as it seems of past lives, lives a bitter God. When guests come to our house, we don’t mention him.

Poetry

Hurricane

hurricane Syllables [hur-i-keyn, huhr– or, esp. British, -kuh n] –noun After a couple weeks sentence of staying in some foreign place with trees, she came back home and Miami

Short Story

Fall Cranes

Back home, my sister’s bedroom overlooked our back deck. She could climb out her windowsill and drop down a few feet onto the wooden planks