Photo courtesy of author
March 13, 2016

For “Crescent City,” the form came to me in an organic expression of spoken poetry. It wasn’t until I looked out my hotel window at the city and the river and opened my mouth did the poem come.

March 11, 2016

These books seem to yield a new story on every visit; as Nalini Jones puts it, you’ll “feel the world tilt to the side” in a new direction every time you dip into these pages.

March 9, 2016

But why did the chicken leave its roost? How did the chicken lay a golden egg? What were the chicken bones doing in the trash?

March 5, 2016

Bird is a ballad to vanished love, to an erotic connection akin to rapture ... Rapture, like memory, is powerful, its grasp long and tenacious. But love comes in many guises. 

Photo by author
March 3, 2016

When I enter the Merrill apartment, it feels like another world. . . Ouija room to the left, Merrill’s study and library hidden behind the sliding bookcases to my right.