May 17
Soul Auger The poet had written, “kneel to auger the soil,” but misspoke, and so, I auger my soul, drilling towards the core, hoping to find some essential, unique thing, all the while fearing what might emerge. Ghosts long buried might arise to haunt the peace of this new life, or a subterranean chain reaction …
Mar 10
Coloring My parents bought a used ’65 Dodge Dart, white inside and out, dad’s pride and joy, and I, just a boy left unbuckled, untethered, saw the back of the front seat as a blank canvas, which I covered in patternless Crayola-tones, an abstract masterpiece, faded to black and white in memory. Consequences swift but …
