What an Arroyo Can Do

It is possible for an arroyo to hold water,
just as a gutter, one of its definitions, can.
But mine is high in the desert and dry as scorn.

The sun bakes long-suffering into that dirt.
That’s what an arroyo is, a gully of dirt
the color of old pottery and scrub,
like a god scattered a burden of
wild straw and told it to dig deep into
the color of acceptance. To make roots.

More In: Chronicles

On the Semi-Frozen Sanabria

My brother laughs, bets he can cross
Without falling through.

We know he can’t—
The ice is too thin.

I dare him anyway.
Dad’s head shakes no.

My brother, half on land, half …

If You Can Read This You Are in Range

Brassy casings and colored shells litter swamp edges and road crossings
shot from passenger windows: POSTED and PAVEMENT ENDS.
Aubrey refreshes feed plots for a hunt club he’s tired of …



If those without memory live nowhere
then the reverse must be true and

we live everywhere at once, in places
        exhumed, reanimated
so often we forget …

Full Gallop

I return to the house a little more burned,
a little more
peopled by your faces turned toward that horserace
the past

where we are from, where winter warps


The rain was righteous and godless,
and when together, in a room during such rain,

our concerns took on the disposition
of a purse full of shattered glass.

How is a person …