Monthly Archives: May 2014

Philip Levine mingles in a baseball cap before his reading, looking like he’s there for Grand Friends’ Day at Moses Brown. An amiable urbanite, he takes his time and patiently fills us in. His hands are dirty but his clothes … Continue reading →

Troy’s slack skin slides under my fingers. He’s out for the count whatever that means, his ribs aligned like ridges on the sandy marge of a brackish delta. If I were younger I could smell him too. When he wakes … Continue reading →

He puts up with me like flypaper does. Who am I to be the judge? He dons his robes with silent eloquence and instructs the jury for me. I smell like a lunchbox found in the back of an orange … Continue reading →