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Maisie Prayed

Did I do the right thing? Maisie Clay is forty-three years old and here she is, sitting on a tombstone in a cemetery in the middle of the night. She is here because she wants…

Soft Sculpture

I sink into a beanbag chair 
shaped like a giant ear 
but changing shape to fit my rear 

New York City Rain

WEDNESDAY—ALL MY LUGGAGE IS SOAKED and I tore the sleeve of my brand new overcoat in the subway station. Elder Sessions told me not to look away if I noticed someone staring. “Just stare them…

Basic Training

We were like filings, lifted straight 
As though a magnet stiffened up 
Our figures like the hair upon 
Our closely cropped skulls. But we, 

She and He: Alternatives

—Or on summer evenings as the sky 
Draws down its light, prodding the question why 

They sit in cast-off wicker furniture, 
The kids cross-legged as though the lawn made a shore

Embracing the Flesh: In Praise of the Natural Man

Ten years ago I cut to pieces another human being. Using scalpel, electric bone saw and tweezers, and blunt dissection, I slowly removed the flesh from her body over a six-month period. I was never arrested, nor charged with any crime. In fact, I was encouraged by the society around me. It was considered part of the learning process. 

Lectures on Death at Chaco Canyon, New Mexico

The ranger stoops to toss a stick away 
and points to a narrow hole dug in the mud. 
“Snakes,” she says, “are plentiful this year; 
there’s some bubonic plague in rodents here.”