Featured Poetry

These Are the Things I Think I Know:


The Deep End

The Deep End

Nobody in the family swam.
We were to swimming as Abraham
Was to a hog roast or lobster boil;
We took to the water like water to oil—
By sinking instantly. One of my aunts
Missed marching to Pomp and Circumstance

With the rest of her class at Bayside High
Because she’d insisted on staying dry,
Telling the dour and muscular gym
Instructor that she preferred not to swim.
The story was family legend. Impressed,
I heard how she’d chosen a different test,


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