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They were gathered in a field, six boys, playing a game he didn’t know.

From a plastic Adirondack on the back deck
of a cabin sealed once but abandoned
to a splinter-shaggy-cinder-silver-gray,
I’d watched day diminish as vision does 
when force on eye nerve bloats (vignetting) 
and I’d come through regimented grass...

I told myself five hundred would be enough

to begin to make a plan.

Bulbous ropes of kelp the tide stranded.
Sandstone sea-break cliffs; eucalyptus groves.
A hammock strung between redwoods.

“The Queens of Queen City” is photographer Michael Snyder’s immersive photodocumentary, nearly a decade in the making, of the drag community of Cumberland, Maryland, in northern Appalachia. Just a few images into it, I was struck by what...

What is a salamander without a cool, damp, shady place full of hiding space and things like worms and snails and slugs to eat? With its habitat? *

Pes mou, the driver said to us at the taxi stand, leaning against his car, all bored and beautiful.

     His noiseless blooming in the callous earth. I followed
a dry-bone branch, spiderweb-cracked, off the Running Turkey. 

on a movie set and you see the doctor

I chose it,
went willingly,
put in

the time
with the diocese
and my sponsor,