Before I drag myself into work every morning, I sit in my car in parking lots—the only public places left that don't come with a soundtrack--and read poetry. Currently, I'm into Merrill Gilfillan, Steve Scafidi, Tom Clark and Tom Hennen. My new book of poems is Appalachian Night. It is available from me at no cost: just email chineseplums@gmail.com. 
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When Your Wife Moves to Alaska


​you might find yourself one cold morning standing 
in the driveway staring, watching your car defrost 
and even in your numbness you may well perceive 
the windshield ice receding in the shape of a raggedy heart 
which brings to mind the hand that renders lumpy moons 
and you could be forgiven for thinking it means something
but in truth it's hard to focus when it's freezing and 
you’re having trouble remembering where you’re supposed to go