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I let you pull my hair, throw me to the rocks, disarrange me.

Absence rarely makes the heart grow fonder, or so my mother said.

A plus B; a child in peril, plus love, dissolution of, equals a story.

Years ago I wanted parallel lives, to see how it turns out for all of me.

I’ve taken the pledge and made donations of blood to the world.

Michael McGriff

Soon everything here will be sopped up by time. Only art will last.

My brush an M-16, thirty-round clips for tubes of paint, all of them red.

At night the voices on the patio sound like small darting birds.

Robert Hedin

I’m from Boston, is that why I imagine Fredrick’s emotions for him?

i silenced with my hands the loud wet thing that would not let me sleep

The old hen scratches then looks, scratches then looks. My life.

I turned—a peculiar triumph—as ruin succumbed to the ruin it birthed.

I walked that land with him, one and mingling, breaking into breath.

Out there, my father captains a boat tour below the Cliffs of Moher

It was our flesh with its deadly sweetness that led them on.

She already knew that deafening silence of a call gone unanswered.

How do we heal our savage hearts, foolish wrath gone rogue on any soul.

’Tis with our judgments as our watches, none go just alike.

Why am I always asleep in your poems? Look at me Ben, when am I.

Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky, the flying cloud, the frosty light.

Lie down & whisper all your careless dreams into my votive ear.

The waves have heard of you. How you caress, how you kiss.

One spent the better part of this life writing in the dirt with a stick.

All roads lead to Rome, but all trails take you to Oklahoma.

I feel as if I have been struck from the book of the living.

The sloshed grownups had little to say to me. I loved it that I was alien.

It’s the human genius of reproducing not quite exactly.

It has its life, returning always to the ocean. It doesn’t care.