Minggu, 10 Juli 2011


Tell me it ain’t a madman’s wind
Blowing off the bluffs
This morning over the town

A haint slipped off about dawn
From the roof of the ancient church
Went the way of a gull feather
On a winging current

He was like
The sliver of smoke
A dangerous woman
Knifes from one nostril

His was like
The departure
I did not get to watch
Of others, who never knew
The whitewashed walls and
Bougainvillea of this horseshoe bay
Nor the multiplicity
Of blue doors

Sabtu, 25 Juni 2011

Stirring the Fire

Dear readers,

My close friend Danielle Prince is currently on a mission in Cambodia with UN filmmaker Phil Borges, documenting the realities of survivors of acid attacks--a particularly nasty type of violence against women.  Follow her blog here, where you'll find inspiration as well as horror.


Selasa, 31 Mei 2011



I see my father in the eyes of an incarcerated teen

For nine years I’ve been without a compass, yet somehow
found myself

Standing in a predawn kitchen letting my son smear jelly on my forehead
like a blessing

I listen to late night traffic for counsel

And if wind takes my smoke sideways

I reach out a hand and close my eyes

But with a house and wife, baby and dog, university degrees and leased Subaru

The space for loss has shrunk

I’m glutted on ease and fortune

The domino effect of privilege has taken a hold of my life

The sweet stink of gore, the tangled limbs in the trench, the sheets of rain that cloak the enemy as he bears down

Have no place on this beach

Each year it’s getting easier and easier

Which scares me because

I don’t want to wear a smile back to war

And I know it's coming

All at once.