Learning to separate your own interests away from those feelings of, “I should be more like this, I should be more like that”—that’s going to be valuable forever. And not just in writing.
Try compost – scraps / piled into a heap. The forgotten things / are begging for another life. Let’s say you could / get the dirt to sing.
wobbling from some near-by breeze / reaching down as the hillside / where her shadow should be
we’ve started to disassemble the land mines / and plant roses and poems instead.
Wall, enemy, ally, shadow, tree, a toddler / given freedom to roam, requires one // banana-nut muffin, many hands, 56 / minutes to walk one Brooklyn city block.
I recall the prickly pear shrub that never failed to pierce me as I tucked my skinny body behind it, trying to hide…
Did you see a hapless, hunted woman, baby in arms? Her stare’s hollow. // Ahead of her, there’s a slithering line beaded with nowhere people.
MAYDAY’s March Madness tournament has come to an end. Congratulations to all sixteen of our finalists! From the start, there could be only one champion.
“He was soon to become the second most powerful man in Nazi Germany,” reads the tagline for Luchino Visconti’s 1969 film The Damned. It’s an improbable caption for the image below it: a man in drag.
There’s nothing to eat but fruit from baskets sent by friends // and I couldn’t care less about the fate of the world.