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 on ice,
Forces his weight. Eyes go wide.

The shift in ice is audible
As it gives way, swallows his leg whole.

We move to help, but our laughter
Holds us, drowns his cries.

The only danger here is in missing
A rag of wild horses passing in …

More In: Poetry

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 …

Losing My Parents in a Small CVS Drug Store

A woman who looks as old as them says try by the toilet paper.
My parents might be the ones stooped over, calculating the price
per quilted sheet.

An employee …