All Stories

Jumping on a second chance As the barren land runs Drier. Always in your head, The strangeland dreams, And you think they’ll save you...

My grandma got out of Odessa hiding in the hay— of a wagon into which soldiers stabbed pitchforks in— again & again... when I sneezed in...

I was born the daughter of European immigrants, smack in middle of baby boomer years— a first generation American, parents and...

There I go again a refugee, the fallen leaves are me free, I go again without prior consideration, and without any advantage whatsoever,...

It's old hat like dangling participles. Must of been in a Fowler mood. I was waiting at that cafe with the thick carpets. Impractical...