Poet Laundry

  Mom and Dad harvested the green apples and then took down the tangled trees— the apricot trees, too, as they were dying.   But...

  More than annoyed, politely furious, and suffering from PTSD, I was elegantly unhinged.   I slipped on my Levi’s, buttoned m...

  What I remember about the Fourth of July, 1989.   The jar of cocktail sauce bouncing out onto the floor when I opened the refr...