single minded

in her blossom days,

a migrating


swallow, a strike-

slip fault parrying

paws, rattling


inane classmates, who

supposed their words

should be hers.


trusted her father’s box

wrenches, but wary

of his single purpose


delight.  her lab-safe

Bunsen, a one

notion burner, blue


flame, catalysis hot,

gave birth

to light, as her


particles cooled

back to basic. her

dementia, warm


as she dimmed,

single minded

—fetal rest.


The Seam of Things



We were blending curry.  Coriander, the wren

in the bird bath, let us know he wasn’t fucking


turmeric.  Water will let you call it by any name.

Loose edges agree with anything.  When I rub


your lines, parts of me are shaved off, disappear

in your dark.  The best of you feels me map your


boundaries, slip your weirs, whet your ridges.  Still

my skin has purchase on your razor.  Distinction


troubles water—Sicilian dark, Ghana black,

Norway white.  Water would have us washed


to one blood stretched to glass.  I would live

in the beauty of distinction; the seam of things


stitched with braided thread and bone needle.

We travel together tight.  Coriander speaks.


Chiron is a research administrator for Oregon State University.  He is the father of two daughters and lives in the Portland area with his wife. Before life in Oregon, he was a stage actor (before the children), a journeyman printer, a restaurant owner and computer systems manager. He is currently pursuing his MFA in writing at OSU - Cascades.