ReluctancePublished in The Louisville Review Fall 2008 Vol. 64

The Spare Tire
Is constantly afraid
That one day
It will be his turn
To start carrying the weight
Of the car
In which
He has been riding
A while back
He whispered his fears
To the windshield wipers
But in silent judgment
They just shook their heads
And so
He cowers
Under the cover
Lays low in the dark
And on rainy days
He keeps
The Spare Tire
Counts his blessings
One Two Three Four
One Two Three Four
Admits that
If it were not
For the constant fear
Being a spare
Is not at all a bad job
A little unexciting
But being a regular tire
In daily use
Seems really
Deep furrows of worry
Zigzag and wrap
His forehead
And round
He reads all library books
He finds
Forgotten in the trunk
Listens to any backseat gossip
Of erudite passengers
And radio talks
With famed psychiatrists
To try to grasp
Where his reluctance
Comes from
Believe me
He is deeply ashamed
And feels unworthy
Compared to the wheels
Propelling progress
Pulling heavy loads
Rolling their radial faces
Over highways
And dirt
He envies
The way they carry
He wishes
He were like they –
So confident
And groovy

The First Time I Tried to Leave HomePublished on Anderbo February 2008

Please read this poem at Anderbo.  

The MostPublished on Best Poem June 2008

Please read this poem at Best Poem.  

My Boyfriend Reports to the Induction CenterPublished in Free Inquiry October/November 2008 Vol. 28 No. 6

His mother, his father
His sister and I
Took him to the garrison
His head was shaved
His face was pale
His heart was fast
Men with epaulets
Took all boys away
And said that if we wait a bit
We will see them again
In their uniforms
I waited standing by the door
Then sitting on the floor
Then over there on the bench
Then by the bus
His sister left
To do her work
And I left
After her
My hair was long
My face was wet
My heart was bone
Still standing by the door
His mother and his father
Waved goodbye to me