We kind of hated Jackson and Sara. What could we do? They were our friends. We went out for dinner once every three months or so.
#08
Notoriously Abused
To some writers the adverb is a largely pointless outcropping of language; to them a sentence is a lean thoroughfare…
Shearing Season (and other poems)
When the fleshy clefts healed
in the lambs’ ears, finely edged
with fur, I knew it was time
and grabbed a sheep by the leg.