The Fascicles of Emily Dickinson
“promising herself—next time—a thimble, as the blood / ran down into a starched cuff. Mostly,”
The Ways We Pace Ourselves
“It bothers me to no end that patience, like all virtues, takes time to cultivate. So, to pass the time, I read and hope to learn something. I read about Galileo. “
Meditations on How to Break up with my ...
“I’ve found you / a brand of chicken soup with alphabets floating like algae / during a bloom”