This is the name of a poem I started after 9-11 but never finished. What bothered me most that day was the knowledge that things would never be the same, that no good would come of it. Instead, more violence,… Read More ›
United States
Chantez, chantez
Laurent told my mom he had to go to the car to get some things, and gestured for me to join. It was the kind of gesture that implied wrongdoing, a wink from across the table. We were in the… Read More ›
Bill Pearse 