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Looking For Work

After The Diagnosis

Willing

Lessons In Sushi

At 43

May Storm

My Mother’s Painting

The Rest Of Us

Liar

I’m a liar, / he offered on our first date, / as we trudged hand in hand / through sliding sand on Alameda Beach.

I Choke On Mortality And Wish For Something Less Orange

A week before reading of the sad incident in the paper / I have a dream in which I pick orange day-lily petals from the floor, / try to eat them, and choke. According to my friend Clare / I am already dead, unable to swallow the fact / of the brevity of life: yes.