I confess that I frequently judge books by their titles. In some cases, this kind of snap decision works every time.
On a Saturday morning in late September, while waiting for her estranged husband Del to arrive
The Mass is ended.
Daddy used to say it before he moved away to live with Vanessa.
with their past glories
the old dogs of Karma
come sniffing around
I had left them
in the backyard
This poem is my clean porch.
That painting is my sparkling oven.
In those last hours or days you’ll negotiate
spheres and rays with Galileo,
The plows have done their work and then some
as I coast the washboard lane to a bike shop
where the sign on the main road says I can also
purchase peach preserves and tractor parts.
After a ten-year period when she didn’t submit her work for publication, Rae Pagliarulo won the Sa