Poet Laundry

image by deegolden The weird Y at W Bostian Rd reminds me of the little house we rented when we were young and living on love.   Wh...

yellow sun adventure sails bright                                                                           d and            ...

how do i tell her it may get darker, the night longer— what i know from my hollow and vacant days? the night may stretc...

I buried the bubonic bitterness in the backyard; built a bonfire to burn the bits of the behemoth boa the buzzards woul...

We line pebbles on the path, one for each day, and hope for more. Our eyes rove the swish of leaves in the verdant lushness...

photo © 2014 jennifer wagner if i could i would break off a piece of the sun to give to you © 2014 Jennif...

We like to do nothing. For a moment he found himself looking up from the tracks at scores of faces watching them. “So...

Chair with the Wings of a Vulture, 1960, Salvador Dali from broken life to broken life the deadlight arises vulturous lit ...

photo © 2014 Jennifer Wagner strawberry cream and mint renaissance girls, spring’s popsicle juleps, and the deer’s ...

That April of the fall it was already the burning season; petal-damp tulips lined the bent road, curving west. We donned the ...