An Accident
It was an accident, he didn’t mean to, I forced him, I provoked, I should have kept my distance, should have shut up when told…
Dreamers Reading Room
Danny’s Song
The pale-blue sky stretches to the horizon, broken up here and there by tendrils of white scudding along like wispy phantoms.
Preemie
My daughter, now eighteen, is vibrant and healthy. Julia Rose has wild curly blonde hair that frames her face like a lion’s mane.
A Kind of Poetry in It
Each day he packs. Takes pictures off the walls, adds the dish that held his morning toast. The crumbs too. One slipper goes into his bag. One stays under the bed.
Lipstick on a Cigarette
“It’s him – I’m sure of it.”
“Lizzie, I think your imagination is working overtime. It’s not him.”
Where Courage Lives
I walk into my parents’ home to pick my mom up for a family gathering, and like most days over the past few weeks, palpable sorrow greets me at the door.
curled into sorts.
a darkening sky
feeds on a bloodied woman
dawn beckons freedom
An Interview with Steven Heighton
An interview with author, Steven Heighton, featuring writing as re-enaction, exploring obsessions, and the night-mind.
The First 50
While growing up in Spanish Harlem – El Barrio as we knew it during the exhilarating years of the 1970s and 80s – diversity was my monarch, acceptance my culture, and faith my freedom.