“A Genre” A Quiet Courage
“Aunt Sad” Star 82 Review
“Girl of the Lower Forty-Eight” and “Brother Movie, Sister Film” Burningword
“The Tap” and #9 Pick up Line” Birds Piled Loosely
“Morning Lesson” Literary Orphans
“Rival Super Powers” and “At the Endless Rewards Banquet” Otis Nebula
“Slow Waves and Delta Waves” Unbroken Journal
“The Phlebotomist Lover” Rogue Agent
“Full Disclosure” and “All the Lines to Pocatello” Free State Review, Issue 7 Spring/Summer 2017
“In Redwoods” Red Rose Review
“Ceremony to Obliterate Failure” Nerve Lantern, Yoko Ono Tribute Issue
“Earthroom” (poem) “Art Work” (essay) Ekphrastic Review
“Hibbing, MN” Whistling Shade
“Everything I Can’t Have in Luxe, Pacific NW Magazine of Interiors+Design, spring 2016″ Really System
“Wind Spitter” and Funereal” and “First Plane to Jerusalem” International Psychoanalysis
“Saga of the Grief Journal” Rivet Journal
“Dear Christopher” Stonecoast Review
“Hundred Year Flood Plain” The Meadow
“Dante Lecture” “Women” and “Art Guard” The Offing
“Advice for the Birds” Zone 3
“Ode to My Speeding Ticket” and “Not the wind, not that flag” Blast Furnace
“Adult Child” Storyscape Journal
“Headdress” Fifth Wednesday Journal
“The Fight in Spain” Cyclamens and Swords
“A Clinic”, Split Rock Review
“Class Aves” TAB: Journal of Poetry and Poetic’s
Best of the Web Nominee
“Gauzy, then clear” Sugar House Review
“Fides” Agave Magazine
The State Issue, “California” Right Hand Pointing
Poems: “I Blame the Musicals” and “Going through the old clothes” Cirque Journal
“The Road to Saugatuck” Naugatuck River Review
Short Story: “Subduction” Farallon Review
“Ginsberg at the Grey” Empty Mirror
“The Reiki”Five Quarterly
“How To Teach” So It Goes Journal Kurt Vonnegut Memorial Library
Poem: “What Fashioned Me”Halfway Down the Stairs
Poem: “24 hr news cycle“Buddhist Poetry Review, Issue 7
Short Story: “Those Who Come From Circumstances” Night Train
An excerpt from The Analysand
Dr. Klinddor is writing his memoirs in an anonymous, low-slung building among a complex of buildings, on a leafy suburban street in Tualatin, Oregon. In his study, along with the other art, is a woodblock print showing Vienna as a medieval, walled city. It is an aerial view. No one was flying back then (except in dreams I guess) but the outline is thick and hopeful; a childlike best guess at what a city would look like viewed from above. The wavy lines indicate ploughed fields, all the way to the end of the known world that, in art, is signified by the frame. In classic psychoanalytic dream analysis, women are represented by a walled city. I think women are a walled city.
Daughters are the borderless town.
Here are my free associations to the print. First, when I was an art student a student made a woodblock about another student that caused a shitload of problems. Next, that Vienna woodblock is hung next to a flattering, gold mirror that makes me wonder if a mirror was the first print. Last, I wish I could fly away because I am spending far too much time in Tualatin, Oregon.
And by free I mean, take ‘em.
Dr. K (everyone calls him that) has excellent posture, a full head of white hair, a noble roman nose once broken by a beer stein, and my mother, Barb Messinger. He favors soft loafers and white button down shirts and has the constantly hovering smile of a man who is used to being watched.
You reach Dr. K’s study by walking down a carpeted ramp, lined with wheelchairs, open a modern version of French glass doors, and step into another century. That’s because, despite the old age homes’ firm policy (which no one calls an “old age home” anymore my daughter Abisha says, and the whole idea is weird), he was allowed to bring his stuff, a mansion’s worth, crammed into three mauve rooms. Dr. K does whatever he wants in Tualatin B’nai Israel Assisted Living. He is magnetically attractive to a certain kind of ignored woman. Half the night staff is in love with him.