They aren’t the most attractive boys at school—not smarter or more stylish and certainly no more articulate. Their appeal is a mystery to anyone who isn’t under their spell.
thinking about how all of it started
thinking about how the poems ends
The problem was I’d forgotten about the change in altitude. The grief counselor had suggested a getaway, so I fled the Alleghenies for the Rockies and the guest bedroom of my best college friend on a quiet block in Denver.
Once, at the watering hole, a man with a knit-closed eye
kissed me until I spat up a silver coin.
Thank you, everyone, for coming. I'd like to thank Mrs. Keether for this opportunity to speak...
I believe it now—I’d be a fool not to—but that doesn’t mean I agree with it.
four small test tubes.
It was a franchise, the Prez thing, but one as secret as the mob.
Your face, my light. What terrible things I’d do for it.