Vol. 8 No. 3

Winter 2025

Waiting for Godot
Editor's Note
A Poem in Which I Live Happily Ever After
Terra Bella
Vick's Vapo-Rub
your father
Zero to Infinity
Tiny Fish
As If I Were a Meadow/Antonietta
How to Keep Produce Fresh
From East to West
Crossroads
a jumping fish in three parts
What Drops on the Ground Becomes Fertile
A Dedication
When I Left the South
The Site
Unclaimed
The Pool Isn’t Empty
The Unknowable
Quatern: Spinoza in Exile I
Why a Dove
Autumn Leaves in Taos
Snow Angel
When I worked security, we’d walk
wedding garden
Rummage
Birthday Party All Tricked Out
Herd Instinct (A Diptych)
Crawfishing in Macleay Park
Communion II
Loquiphobia
Toronto Night
How to Make Potatoes Au Gratin for a Family Holiday
Cactus Fruit
Nobody’s Girl
We Can’t Find Where My Grandparents Are Buried
The River Calls For Us All
Hook
Scavengers
Shaving
Interchange
schedule this message to send at 3am
Wes Anderson
Cartload
While attending the Deep Vellum ten-year anniversary party at The Wild Detectives
Camera Obscura as Self-Portrait
Returning from an earthworm’s funeral procession being carried out by razor jaw ants, we get stuck in rain*
Imprint
This doe as a map
Cicadas, Puenta Allen, Yucatán
Stab Shallow
Mystic Aquarium
Summer A
Vigil
Interior
Untertow: A Love Story
Medusahead
When my lover wakes, there are no warplanes in the sky
Stones & Stories
After One Last Trip to the Store
Even a Rabbit Can Twist an Ankle
Someone Always Needs to Explain
So Many Books, Too Few Elders
Tree-Eaters
Fast Friends
Wild
IMG_5472
Atoning
Lily Elsie Before The Merry Widow
Dick Van Dyke flees his Malibu home
How to Lucid Dream
Six Characters in Search of an Author

The Unknowable

Our feet have padded the same seaweed-tangled beaches and alpine
          trails for almost half a century.
We’ve gazed at the same gentle lakes and angry oceans.
We’ve slipped unknowingly into each other’s shadows again and
          again.
But so much about you remains a mystery.
At one time, I sought to understand, to analyze, to quantify the
          fragment I didn’t know
not content with the eighty percent I knew so well.
The uncertainty of what was uncertain taunted me to search, to
          worry.
When I marveled at your paintings, I felt incomplete.
I couldn’t see where the flock of birds lifting off a beach was headed
or imagine the cove where the lone boatman was rowing his dinghy
or read your expression in your self-portrait.
But it’s the unfathomable that makes you an ever-evolving partner
          and lover.
As you say about your art, “Our love is anything you want it to be.”
I hear a love song without words on a distant peak we’ll never quite
          reach.

______________________________________________________________________________

I hear a love song without words on a distant peak we’ll never quite
          reach.
As you say about your art, “Our love is anything that you want it to be.”
But it’s the unfathomable that makes you an ever-evolving partner
          and lover.
I couldn’t read your expression in your self-portrait
or imagine the cove where the lone boatman was rowing his dinghy
or see where the flock of birds lifting off a beach was headed.
When I marveled at your paintings, I felt incomplete.
The uncertainty of what was uncertain taunted me to search, to
          worry.
I wasn’t content with the eighty percent I knew so well.
At one time, I sought to understand, to analyze, to quantify the
          fragment I didn’t know.
But so much about you remains a mystery.
We’ve slipped unknowingly into each other’s shadows again and
          again.
We’ve gazed at the same gentle lakes and angry oceans.
Our feet have padded the same seaweed-tangled beaches and alpine
          trails for almost half a century.

Share!