Posts By This Author

My Imperfect Calligraphy

by Rob Soley 01-01-2011

My strokes are halting, not like the imagined fluidity
of the monastic scribes, hunched, by candlelight,
over some ancient text, perhaps the Our Father,

A Herd Of Pigs

by Rob Soley 09-01-1984

There is no reason / for a white man to be here.

My Father's Hands

by Rob Soley 01-01-1984

They used to prowl the house / like great brown bears ...

Lullaby, And Goodnight?

by Rob Soley 01-01-1982

Being a parent is my vocation. I am not necessarily good at it, merely called to it.