“Shakespeare’s felicity is so often taught it is easy to overlook how taut the sinews in his neck must have been when… — BJ Ward Copy Share Image
“These words are my mother’s, my father’s, my brother’s, my lender’s, my garbage man’s—the poem runs like oil on fire beneath this… — BJ Ward Copy Share Image
“As hard as the diamonds in your smile, the wind carries its hammers with no hands and sustains a moan with no… — BJ Ward Copy Share Image
“As children we learned our shadow is a darkness we never totally shake until we lie down, pull the shades, draw the… — BJ Ward Copy Share Image
“I’d reconstruct Heaven, or usurp Hell— write till I swing open like a door hinge. I arrive—a rogue who’d refurbish town. I… — BJ Ward Copy Share Image
“The judge sentenced us to life— real, awake life out of the jails we had been roaming in— life in prism— then… — BJ Ward Copy Share Image
“Will there be no more irises in your garden tomorrow morning, or perhaps any rainbows that covet your roof will melt into… — BJ Ward Copy Share Image
“Above us all rose my mother’s hand, dangling from the column shifter like some battle-tattered flag for independence, surrounded by the glass… — BJ Ward Copy Share Image
“I wanted to shove her away, thinking of my job, of headlines, of how this kind of comfort was outside the behavioral… — BJ Ward Copy Share Image
“The judge sentenced us to life— real, awake life out of the jails we had been roaming in— life in prism— then started handing… — BJ Ward Copy Share Image
“I’d reconstruct Heaven, or usurp Hell— write till I swing open like a door hinge. I arrive—a rogue who’d refurbish town. I take my… — BJ Ward Copy Share Image
“As children we learned our shadow is a darkness we never totally shake until we lie down, pull the shades, draw the curtains, shut… — BJ Ward Copy Share Image
“I wanted to shove her away, thinking of my job, of headlines, of how this kind of comfort was outside the behavioral guidelines of… — BJ Ward Copy Share Image
“Shakespeare’s felicity is so often taught it is easy to overlook how taut the sinews in his neck must have been when he grasped… — BJ Ward Copy Share Image
“Above us all rose my mother’s hand, dangling from the column shifter like some battle-tattered flag for independence, surrounded by the glass shards and… — BJ Ward Copy Share Image
“Will there be no more irises in your garden tomorrow morning, or perhaps any rainbows that covet your roof will melt into Rorschach pastels… — BJ Ward Copy Share Image
“As hard as the diamonds in your smile, the wind carries its hammers with no hands and sustains a moan with no mouth, seems… — BJ Ward Copy Share Image
“These words are my mother’s, my father’s, my brother’s, my lender’s, my garbage man’s—the poem runs like oil on fire beneath this earth where… — BJ Ward Copy Share Image
“My fist is her flag still furled. Take the cannoli and leave the tuxedo - This is my jackleg opera to the world.” — BJ Ward Copy Share Image
