Quarry Lake

Cement-dry August. All day, I’ve studied my memories. The past will not apologize. It’s a jeweler cutting stones, but not diamonds. Underneath that misspelled tattoo, your smooth, bronze skin, a [...]


My one-armed, little brother is 6’ 2” his face quirked, like a question mark. He’s back from the army, filled with a silent language he doesn’t understand. Says he dreams of a job, maybe [...]