Spring onions [ little but mighty ] dance around in a Friday evening pan & press their tangy scent through screened windows in Queen Village. Volvo-owning dads mirror-shine their autos with microfiber cloths & load hatchbacks with camping equipment. I walk through it all, like an open air museum. Grilled burgers & Turtle Wax, basil clippings from the windowContinue reading “COMFORT”


Certain of nothing now but smiling and the pup, sighing tired sighs in my lap. Possibility of the day’s last minutes growing limp like wilted radish greens. What I could start and not finish haunts me. Dinner was invented, destroyed, and the dishes speak of a modern, though pointless porcelain sculpture. And isn’t that theContinue reading “THE DAY’S LAST MINUTES”