A Thought had While Staring up into the Eyes of Mao Zedong
To be worshipped you need not be anything but great, not kind, nor loving, nor even marginally worth dying for, but arrogance will do,...
Concatenation
On the night I left home again for the winds of the desolate prairie, I sobbed in the study lounge for 60 straight minutes, facing the...
Doubt
Eyes like barn owls, perched in the rafters of her face. I'm searching the air for the right questions to all the answers I've been...
The Windows are Frozen Shut
We barrel through the prairie autumn in J's Chevy, taking in fields the color of sepia photographs, leaves that skitter over the asphalt...
Heading
I’ve never told you how it scares me, the way we’re charging through fog all the time with compasses smashed to pieces at our feet. Be...
Taoyateduta (Little Crow)
The angels I know of do not dress in white. He was a blackened tongue, branded by the sight of Washington, the unwelcome prophet whose...
Inertia
There’s this picture of you standing on a train bridge under a cloudy sky somewhere in Ontario. And you’re grinning that wild-eyed grin...
Falling Star
I struggle with what I’d tell him — the boy who mailed himself to God — Would I look into his sandbagged eyes and see anything but a...
Clockland
“Where are we going?” I asked myself, sitting on the bench in the shadow of an oak. I gaze d northward over rippling fields, watched the...
Going On
The sound of the train horn scrambles through a fog of new heads. The prairie rings, but no one is at home. And the res halls are full of...
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