Me and Dorothy Day meet for coffee and watery soup at a downtown five-and-dime lunch counter. Me, a cub reporter; she, a wise woman. I know she picketed the White House, demanded the vote, went to jail, escaped with a presidential pardon. She left her lover for her religion. I know she started a string [...]

my heart is open country now low sky on a flat plain a lone horse splits its hoof on a stone hobbles off * mountains holding down the horizon, blocking weather all that comes down this side image of rain we won’t feel * bloody light in the canyon the last fist unfurls if no [...]

I held it in my hand, gender unknown The blood sticky and warm Taking repose, inside the crease, of my lifeline, The rusty brown, half-circle path course circling Delicately, down and around my thumb I stared mutely at the pad, meant to absorb, Not cradle The miniature purple skull and curve of a limb, Barely [...]

It is midday and she reads on the bed. Her curves are clothed, she lies on her stomach: Copper strands strewn over a black blouse, a line of purple shirt hem under the first, next a gap between clothes layers— a strip of skin, a narrow expanse for kisses to stick to. Magenta lace pantywaist, [...]