“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 we know each other. Witness the black smoke everywhere.” — 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
