Nonfiction

By the Neck

So many vital structures reside in the neck, all the highways that keep us alive, upright, sentient—an airway tube, a spinal cord cocooned in bone, and those magnificent vessels transporting blood to the brain. 

Breaking Point

Our heads are filled with the native rhythm of an aerobic beat and hot anticipation.

Blood/Shed

You know what they say—never trust anything that can bleed for a week without dying.

You Know What She Means

And here is another thing you do not remember: your parents telling you that you have polio, and that they are taking you to St. Margaret’s Hospital in Northridge.

How Air Moves

Underneath is a body cast, my new ectoskeleton, my nautilus, crawled into, where I live now.

Iambic Pentameter and the Meter of War

In the 1940’s, a young Marine returns from China to a small Pennsylvania town. One year later finds the body of the mother-in-law sprawled on the kitchen floor and the body of the wife in the living room, both perforated with bullets.

Conduit

This is a temple for them, I thought. This is where the gods will be merciful or not. And I speak for the gods.

The Bald and the Beautiful  

The thing about soap operas—and this gets left out when people criticize them—is that virtue is always rewarded, and vice is always punished.

Snapshots of Bellevue

When sick New Yorkers failed to find a place in private institutions like New York Hospital, they turned to public hospitals like Bellevue.