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Things That Don’t Keep a Lightning Bug Alive

Where my mom was wasn’t never far from the Myrtle Beach Days Inn.

Thinking It Through

His mother wasn’t there to meet him at his stop. She never was.

This Is Not a Christmas Story

There was a shout, then a shot fired. I pressed the shutter again and again.

Three Poems

My mother is queen of buttons. She shows off the prized ones.

Three Poems

I love it—watching gray light bleed out over the makeshift bed on the floor.

Three Poems

Let’s walk down to the river, bless the paper boats and turn it all into wine.

Three Stages of Amazement

Charlie wasn’t Lena’s first love, but he counted on being her last.

Three Stories

I tell my sister what I didn’t tell my father, I love you. Please, don’t die.

Ticket to Ride

We travel, some of us forever, to seek other states, other lives, other souls.

Tina Turner and My Father

Ike’s voice left behind on the shore as Tina plunges in again.

To the Dirt Which in Time Will Consume Us All

I love scientists. They’re trying their hardest. And they just want love.

Tractor

It seemed to her that they only ever touched each other in transient, sudden ways.

Twigs

Neither fame nor wealth could provide consolation for life’s brevity.

Two Girls Bathing and Other Poems

She wears her nakedness like it has been woven from air.

Two Poems

I want to sleep in a bed next to a man who won’t dream of me all night.

Two Poems

Not all his children love themselves. Look at little Adrienne.

Type A

My first true love was Underwood, my mother’s typewriter.

Untitled (Woman Brushing Hair)

She takes her hand to my scalp: eyes close as if tasting lemon cake.

Up Country

Tanya jokes that she comes to the East Coast now only for funerals.

War Widow

You smile into the phone static, the breath of your beloved.

Washed Away

The future was spread out for us to go in any direction we wanted.

We Named Our Dogs After Liquor

You live in this country, you put up bars, you train your dogs to snarl.

Wednesdays

I miss sex. I really liked it, and I was good at it, if I do say so myself.

What It Requires

I am part dumb, and blind, and deaf, and untasting and unfeeling.

What Would You Have Me Do?

We’d never had a cross word, but I’d never corrected him.

White Fish

There isn’t a nice Jewish boy in sight—not that I’m looking for one.

White Moon Rising

I never actually existed. I didn’t know it at the time, but it’s clear as day.

Why I Have Decided to Live

Because I can love every small thing.

Winnipesaukee and Other Poems

No one was awake and I was hungover young as clean as a piano.

Winter Dreams

Dexter was unconsciously dictated to by his winter dreams.