Walking by the Hudson can condensation cold, hot sun sweat and an excuse to be alone figs fertile split of ruined ripe bursting the rough bitter of grey amethyst velvet green plastic cage of fruit in hand and salt-stain wood, old orange rosehips thorned, soft smog. Clover can not be anything but content. Queen Anne’s … More hudson

gold & grapes

Give me something golden, something I can hold; if I was King Midas, I would not be so bold as to burn each touch with molten metal, curse my daughter, purge the earth of water, wine, good grapes that burst. Say I, with ore clutched close: I will tend the forge, close braid and curl … More gold & grapes