It is late at night and the crowd clears and I have had enough drinks and in a flash of rain soaked pavement and the cold kiss of the rain ...

 In the middle of the night I wake needing to know more about Napoleon's Russian campaign, worried about the losses we can't see loo...

 It's almost funny, i guess, how I spent all of these years convincing myself to touch things with my palms and then it turns out that ...

In my head we're seventeen, sitting next to each other in psychology class, and I have just told you that I think you're secretly a...

A side effect of all this living is how these grief events keep building up, one after the other, on and on and on until I am one myself. Y...

I've been writing letters to you in my head for more years now than I haven't, more than half of my life with a place reserved jus...

Mary Oliver died a year ago today. The great thing about poems is that they're always there even when poets aren't, and I've sa...