Summer 2014

Foundered

“Someday you’ll be dead and everyone else can eat,” Iris said, after Floyd took the last of the mashed potatoes without asking if anyone wanted more. “Don’t nod your head at me like that. I know what you’re thinking.” “Shut up or I’ll kick you into the living room,” he…

Telephone

I. An appendage of my stepdaughter’s hand, pink as the tongue it has muted. Even as she sleeps it snores gently in her loosened grasp. All day her thumbs tap coded words across the screen, her eyes alive in its light. II. In my mother’s hand, another riddle she once…