Dan Lau

Men’s knees convulse as if buckling  from the weight of music. This is not the Pegasus. This is San Francisco. The tenderness of evening  is lost in the afternoon. It’s Sunday, but still, those knees bend and buck like a crush  of newborn deer freshly dropped from the ...

There is a neighbor   drying the dishes in a wire rack each plate filed under another prong.  Open. Filled. Open. Vacancy. In the next apartment, a pile of shells.   The spirals exercised under the pressures of sand returns  the hollow to a net of light. ...

Dear _______________,   I am writing you this letter because you are in pain. This is what you tell me when we speak over the phone. I am writing to you as a record that someone has taken the time to write you a letter. You are in the future and I am in the past. It is 6pm ...