Monday, March 30, 2009

The Evidence of Things

[Jim has inspired me to attempt fiction in strict brevity: a short story in 101 words.]

This morning, I woke with stigmata; up my arms, out my tear ducts. Neighbors say it's a curse on this town: God has arrived in diminutive plagues. My vessels: blood rivers. Now we await our firstborn's demise, or something like it. We figure miracles'll kill us if they don't crush our souls first.

Sure, we never understood the blessing of the Blood. Thought He swelled into flesh only to wither away again. We have the hard, hard hearts. Mine seems to be crumbling to fragments; meanwhile, along my arms, here, is violent cleaving of flesh and faith, or something like it.

Saturday, March 7, 2009

Published: Your Bright Wounds

Check out my most recently published poem--"Your Bright Wounds"--at Chronogram!
(Pay no mind to the banner in the middle. That's not part of it.)

Thursday, March 5, 2009

The Chance of Rain

When it rains here, we soak
up to our ankles and down
from our hoods. You wouldn't
believe all the water filling
in the cracks of our streets and
rushing down the sidewalks
in thin sheets of current. We
could almost be swept away.