photo from Print Magazine Last night I broke your heart. More lights were off than normal the glare that skimmed across my charcoal...

photo from Pitchfork “Feeling Blue?” A road sign selling some sort of pill announces, peeking over a clump of maples beside the Route 71...

My father and I sit  on velvet cushions with milky stripes like frosting on birthday cakes.  An old waiter mumbles and places a lumpy...

Pirouetting from snare to cymbal, like my baby Joni in her recital. My silk blue jacket brighter than Belle’s eyes the first time I saw...

Tucked away, in a desolate corner of town, the Princeton Record Exchange, filled with music in every physical form, sits against a vacant...

Middle fingers down, index up, thumb out, pinky up. When I am five, the motion makes me feel like Spiderman. My fingers mold into place,...