The [Unintelligible]

Men are coming to take Mom’s bed. 

Her quilts and blankets and sheets and throws are covered with cigarette burn holes. I strip the bed and fill four big black garbage bags and cram them in her closet whose door …

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What Fiction Means

I have something to confess right here up front. Tonight I feel utterly at home. You might think we’re in a magnificent wedding cake ballroom full of chandeliers and debutante pretensions. But I spring from a long line of Baptist …

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The Death of a Tree [winner]

                                      for Diana


The Lost Tree of Ténéré

was the last of a dwindling grove

of acacias that could not adapt


to the changing climate

or to the hungry animals

that traveled upwind


            & yet despite or because

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[an excerpt from Spectra]


To speak without vulnerability you claimed


the land’s fragrance its honey its plants

translation           I wanted to be back in my language

“back”? /

I wanted to differently be in

another word for being…

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