Of Courtyards

Out on the lake, we’ll meet again: An anchored pontoon bobbing up and down like our newfound bed and the Woodbridge moonlight as it sprea...

Early-morning tenderness; you lay out your dress and press your fingers up against the shower wall. Coffee when the sun comes...

After listening to 102 new albums this year, I have come up with my list of the Top 50 Albums of 2012. A lot of great, established artists c...

The hyacinths are drinking in the mud left from the melted snow banks; the winter looms in exhaust fumes and bottles up the burning gas t...

A drive-by home; A parking lot; Russell Street smoke bounds and trots The smell of summer lingering high A foggy tome; The morning'...

up beyond the thick green water, where no man meets a farmer's daughter, a tattooed wily mistress washed her dress from Saginaw, ...

No one is neon but light is ours Driving out west to Kalamazoo My clammy arms are wrapped around you The gearshift is vile, it's got ...

Last year, I turned the big 2-3. I realize that my lifetime may not be the greatest period in music: I was born at the tail-end of Reagan’...

Viscous trails along the counter from a violent break-away and a sunspot on the surface; she asks if it was alive—I tell her no. “Th...

The alleyways went up over the dead air, dirt and mud clinging to the warehouses while Chevys made jet streams in the air over St. Ant...