“Accident-Prone” read by the author
For most of my writing life I’ve focused on poetry. My poems have appeared in such print and online publications as The Christian Science Monitor, San Pedro River Review, Concho River Review, Texas Poetry Calendar, U.S.1 Worksheets, Flycatcher, Bellowing Ark, The Aurorean, Folio, Melancholy Hyperbole, Your Daily Poem, A Year of Being Here, Naugatuck River Review, and many more. I’ve also had poems in a number of anthologies, like Bearing the Mask: Southwestern Persona Poems (ed. Scott Wiggerman and Cindy Huyser, Dos Gatos Press 2016), Pushing the Envelope: Epistolary Poems (ed. Jonas Zdanys, Lamar University Press 2015) and Grit, Gravity and Grace: New Poems about Medicine and Healthcare (ed. Rhonda L. Soricelli, M.D. and Jack Coulehan, M.D., M.P.H.; College of Physicians of Philadelphia 2015). I’ve been nominated three times for the Pushcart Prize and once for Best of the Net. Below is a sampling of some of my published poems.
“Accident-Prone” read by the author
This poem appeared in Red Weather, the annual literary journal of Minnesota State University Moorhead, in Winter 2014/2015: The Truth of the Sun Something so ancient, so immense must hold grudges and desires in its core for an everlasting age, yet its spent eons are a catch in the throat of time, its fulminating gases, droplets in the oceanic universe….
This poem appeared in Texas Poetry Calendar 2015 (Dos Gatos Press), and was nominated for a Pushcart Prize: Like a Cotton Sheet Unfolded with a Snap The desert dust billows before sinking, lying smooth. Sometimes the winds, hot or cold, will lift the edges with a flap, a gritty flutter. Dust is the fitted suit we come to wear. The…
This poem first appeared on Your Daily Poem February 13, 2014, and subsequently on A Year of Being Here on March 25, 2015: A Marriage in the Hands You make a fist, that I might see your skin grow tight again, smoothed across your hand. Those big hands that you like to joke are too heavy when carried all day…
This poem first appeared (in a slightly different form) in Flycatcher: A Journal of Native Imagination in June, 2014: Autumn Reliquary Into the still, cold sky, a china teacup spills its light. Mesquite trees gather at the front porch, bare arms lifted, slender wrists braceleted in mistletoe. We sit outside in an emptiness that runs for miles, bundled against the…
Concho River Review published this poem in the Fall 2014 issue: August, at an Ebb Light rain pocks the dirt around our cabin before rolling south; earthworms rise to it, and leave their runic castings behind. A month before autumn we have fallen into hot confusion, unable to do much but sit on the front porch observing the damp calm…