I was wrapped in linens, the ones my father had traded jars of moss for in a desert town years … More
Tag: november
Poem for Paris in November
violet air. ce soir. music plays in Paris. and the worst elements of us whisper. and the best, they leave here, … More
The Mass Grave of Mayors
The voting came, and the voting went, and the election was over. The incumbent mayor had lost. The round man … More
