A Crutch

I reach up, open the screen door, and slide the stop flap in place. The gesture is a clue for the dogs that it’s time to come inside. But since my fracture they know I’m slower, and care less if they’re in or out. And they’re timid. The crutches are strange. New...

(Standing) In Place

                                                                              Sittin’ on a pin, too tired to get up                                                                                                                      Johnny Watson   I’m standing, after...

The Barrow Poem

  Out my window it’s raining and if I were to walk outside I would be in the rain, and I think of the short poem by William Carlos Williams, that you probably know. I wondered why the word barrow was separated out in the poem, from wheel. I only now discovered barrow...

We (the people)

In South India in February, March and April 1997 we kept our hands off banisters when we visited friends in the Metropole Hotel and didn’t hold onto railings of rickshaws. We stopped sticking our fingers in our mouths and washed our mangos, papayas and bananas before...

Now, Where Was I?

I can’t find the Atlas Theater. I drive in circular patterns through CU’s Boulder campus. Like a dream, something is familiar (I went to school here). When I’m lost I follow random people. I follow another car through the Do Not Enter sign, which takes me right there....