LANE WRITERS NETWORK

What’s believed occludes what is.

Something this morning set me to thinking of the synthetic fabrics of the ‘60s and my grandmother’s insistence on using every item well past

We wait, pretend our lives are normal We are like rock hounds at the beach We watch the tide recede and recede and recede Until the sand...

I open a drawer and mice jump out My child claps with joy at the leaping The world is her circus

from Family House (2012) In the bounding stream of babies flowing through our houses Is the strain of tumbled emotions revealed In...