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Skin Slip

Howie and Nadine were confident they’d be among the survivors.

Sled

My ups and downs never stop on the hump we call a hill behind the house.

Sleepy

Hearing the baby’s cry, Varka finds the enemy who is crushing her heart.

Slope

In school, he was called gook, chink, and one boy called him ching-chong.

Smokehouse

I think you’re carrying on to get your brothers in trouble.

Snapper

A Midwestern man is never without his knife. Half of us carry guns.

Soldier’s Joy

I could shoot you and nobody would say boo. I’m within my rights.

Solitaries

They know whoever passes on the curving road just by the footstep.

Something Irrevocable

My father left me in the car while he was grabbing one for the road.

Sonoran Song and Other Poems

For eight weeks no one heard my voice for eight weeks no one slept.

Sparrow

After four years of watching his body implode, we’re terrified.

Spell

Collage what we can, form fractured and repaired, blend of is and isn’t.

Spring Begins in Checotah, Oklahoma

Oklahoma, a state shaped like a pot, probably some gruel inside.

Still Life with Peeved Madonna

You remind me of lizards birthed in an outhouse by an ogre or a loon.

Stones

Our fathers sit in their gear looking as mean as we knew them to be.

Straight Home

“Mind you come straight home,” Mrs. Heywood always says.

Strata

Truth, it seems, spills from movies and sitcoms in the wires’ wake.

Stretch Out Your Hand

My sister’s fever wasn’t gone at all, but dazzling—suspended over us.

Strip Job

This is a place where young girls are butchered in old-time songs.

Suite of Unreason

All my life I have noted that my thinking was atavistic, totemic.

Suitors Know Best and Other Poems

I stuff cotton in my ears, bits of bird’s nest, anything to stop all that talk.

Summer

Up there there’s not a sound except for the wind and the buzzing of bees.

Summer Fever

The horror of the waste appalls me. This beauty. This habitation of dream.

Summer, 1995

Three rooms, sight unseen, rented from a nurse and her husband.

Suspended

For the first two months of class, Toby did barely any writing at all.

Suspicious Minds

The first time we were alone, I knew it before he even told me.

Swallow

If it were me, kid, I’d swallow. You bet I would. But first I’d run like hell.

Taking Children to the Cemetery

No, you may not walk there. No, you may not stand on that. He is not here.

Teach Us

The linebacker grins, but the lines around his eyes tighten.

Tempus

The fires in the hills signify nothing more than their own wonder.