January

the lack of snow changes the landscape to somber browns the lack of you changes everything else. How long will I be taken with sudden tears at certain images, words, or tones in song?

Where We Rent

We must hate our parents             And ourselves                         We Americans, driven To erase all trace of our, and their, progress             On the landscape. Each site, landmark, seen As a blank canvas. What is this need? Is each strike of the wrecking ball an expression of relief or regret? Failure or success? Our hubris…