Birch bark catches the sinking autumn light, the milky skin Of some imaginary virgin: mites, commensals, worms Swimming in papery husks and plated devils in tenements, Other trees burgeoning in the surgical angle of the street, In the swimming masses of her hair: this...
Frank Tota
This is Frank Tota’s first speculative publication. By day, he writes crime fiction and lives with his wife and two children in central Maine, about seven miles from Stephen King. He is a graduate of Harvard University and (very recently) the Stonecoast MFA Program in Creative Writing.
