The Bangalore Review

A pedicure is an archaeological expedition, if those feet belong to your mother.   A part of this country was your beginning of history.  A faded..

(Rosa Bonheur, Rue des Tournelles, Paris 1836)  My easel billetedbetween stove and painting chest,Most mornings Papa teachesat an atelier for young ladies,later portrait sittings–a  Portuguesefactory..

Image etched by Antoine Jean Duclos (French, Paris 1742–1795 Paris) CategoriesPoetry

That summer at the ranch, one seasonbefore Stanley hung himself in the toolshed,with rope worn from countless tie-downs–choosing his own handiwork over cancer–there was a..

I’ve never before been intosomeone with such small breastsI like my hands to overflow with themto see their teardrop formblood rushes to imagine the color..

I guess I could discuss phantoms and pharaohsand the places in between them,or rhyme schemes and what is palatable. it’s been weeksof perpetual reflection.I’ve been..

Consider the space between A  B,the middle sister nobody sees,or the last invited, all set to gobut left behind wearing a new green coat,speechless, while..

Bangkok, Thailand The white egrets in the treetuck up their legs, as still asthe noon heat. In last night’s dreammy high school flamehad been left..

When they buried me they put all my statuesIn the very ditch in which I was to be put. Next they put in my estate,Then my..

I hope morning is only a suggestion.I hope we linger in bed to memorizeSpring spilling warm sky outside,a collage of our lives as rose-lit.  I..

a night of a friday on the table next to many empty bottlesi have a penholder two packs of cigarettesa desk lamp and a notebook.on..