[tabby title="Poem"] It’s no small thing that cleaners clean,doing God’s work with bare hands, insisting even when it surpasses dutyIt’s no small thing when the driver says, “I’ll pick it up now”when he’s well within his rights to collect and...

[tabby title="Poem"] Not so much a ghost as that which shakes a tipsy stillnessA cold cola, no matter how sweet, is no proxy for the warmth of fresh coffeeWords float about almost abstractlyA sad peek-a-boo if you will, as rays...

[tabby title="Poem"] Juxtaposing the working class and the wealthyThe view from the skate park is lovelyPerusing plaques about the Amsterdam BatteryHave we told our children Gallows Hill isn’t named as such for nothing? We stroll atop a multitude of worldsNotwithstanding...

[tabby title="Poet Bio"] How slow these revolutions,Between the long and short hands,As water spilled through contention, parches once luscious land. The trove of what was, outweighs what is,I see the rat tiptoe the perimeter,as the Olive Thrush leaves. Stroking wounds...

[tabby title="Poet Bio"] To the fathers who walk backwards with their thumbs upbecause it’s a choice of bread or transport, thank you. To the fathers who bore through the depths of their shadowswhen their spirits are not forthcoming, thank you....