Poetry
The new bed rests where the oldone was, but he will notset paw on its new-smellingsoftness; instead, sticks his nose underthe old rug wadded for trash, sighsfor what still smells like home.
I felt as if I knew him. I felt as if he knew me. —Young soldier, upon hearing about FDR’s death
I can have anything& everything I ever wanted.—Kid Cudi
I wanna be like the Silver Surfer,coasting on white-hot solar winds
I don’t think I ever brought
my sotto to your voce, my custom to your fit,my ultra to your marine.I know you did not bring
I keep scraping the canvasAnd painting him over againBut he keeps slipping away—Edward Hirsch
Putting her fragmentsTogether in yetAnother way
As the young, slight, male manicuristdeftly massages my hand, we turn our headsin opposite directions as if such pleasurebetween strangers were unseemly in light
Please be advised that snow globes are not allowed through the security check point. —LaGuardia Airport sign
at nightmy mother bathed me in a white tubscrubbed me with white soaprubbed me in a white towelhugged and plugged meinto pajamas and the white sheets
The children are back, the children are back—
They’ve come to take refuge, exhale and unpack;
The marriage has faltered, the job has gone bad,
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Wisconsin Academy Offices
1922 University Avenue
Madison, Wisconsin 53726
Phone: 608.733.6633
James Watrous Gallery
3rd Floor, Overture Center for the Arts
201 State Street
Madison, WI 53703
Phone: 608.733.6633 x25