Morning Comes
On a morning like many others, a young man stepped out of his home. He entered the grey hours with a sense of duty, of a job needing to...
Why New Orleans is Home
When people ask me “Where are you from?”, you’d think they’d asked me to solve the mystery of the universe. I stumble; I mumble something...
Tears/Sorrow/Song
photograph Brianna Breaux, Kinsale, Republic of Ireland 2017 Tears The way home is eight miles through the wind ripping off Lake...
Blue Rose
This is my last one, swear to God. Or is it, gods? Whichever sadistic mystery keeps us spinning, whether we want to or not. Today, I want...
Irish Moonlight
Green Air My hands roll over your skin In a fit of shuddering music Glowing in moonlight's shadow Halfway to god I am here Learning love...
Mrs. Yours
Am I a last name passed on from father to son to lover, mother, son– through customs and countries? Am I a last name interchangeable as...
Night, Waking, Morning
(When You Go to Bed) Night time streets, No wind and no clouds, Just the moon And the road. Lights are off. The walls are cast in a pale...