Yale Daily News

To Dennis Johnson   The beachcombers take themselves like serious trains   to Los Angeles Palo Alto Santa Monica’s legs worn down by the sand […]

January 28, 2013

The Lemon Tree Why do I come here, at night, when the shadows are darkest?   The shade of the lemon tree is as black […]

January 28, 2013

My brother played catch with an oak tree, tossing baseballs to the thick palms of branches overhead.   Sometimes we heard him singing, the weight […]

November 28, 2012

It is the dark time. For though the sky is so white that skiers buy $200 designer sunglasses, and the schoolgirl down the street smiles […]

November 28, 2012

I. The pots on my windowsill catch light along their edges   here and there, the fragile spear of a chive jutting up, a frill […]

November 28, 2012

Matchbox by Nikola Champlin My fingers, which should be familiar, belonged to another woman. The splinter melted the plastic, blackened the wood a coin-sized scorch […]

September 20, 2012

The Lifeboat For and After Elizabeth Bishop As you all know, tonight a new volcano has erupted. Although it is a cold evening hot ash […]

September 20, 2012

Props are used in rituals and jokes. Hers was a mango. Each time she peeled us one, she’d say the only messless place to eat […]

January 26, 2012

Giggles germinate and grow like goose grass in between my synaptic gaps, neurons now a hunk of handicapped hash brown yap. Inside, I can’t think. […]

January 26, 2012

Her majesty the Windy City looms above the slabs of black and worn out brooms, whose bristles brush over the bric a brac strewn carelessly […]

January 26, 2012

She liked to scan her hands in the old machine and print out three copies of her left hand, three copies of her right. Usually […]

November 9, 2011