THE UNNAMED
I still think of you, even in Asheville, the umber hips
of the mountains cresting the sky like rising planets,
as I cross the Publix parking lot, in this town so quiet
I can hear the frost on the grass, …
DETONATION
Outside the doctor’s office, my son lays curled
on the floorboards of my van,
red and constricted as a crab,
the windows of the car absorbing sunlight …