Category: Poetry
A Weekend with You
We spent a weekend together. I was who you wanted and you were who I wanted. But it wasn’t real. There was an overwhelming feeling of desire and lust that I couldn’t get rid of. You took care of that. And I took care of you. But I didn’t account Read more
The Day I Quit School (Two Years Before I Was Expelled)
1.1 Falstaff, hoodless, gathers senior pages three quarters removed from postmodern squirehood: apprenticeship, union dues, parental woes, truck payments, beer tabs & dive pubs & splinters eat their futures like famished gluttons chewing new recipes. Encircled, he blathers-on long-winded, demonstrating chattermark removal from 4×4 timbers. Band saw blades buzz, decapitating Read more
The Rape of Your Road
Will there ever be a channel in his mind’s eye to turn off the required rhetoric of abating an abuser as not just a loser but a gentrified angst ridden scapegoat of pharmaceutical liability that transgresses into the game of creating enemies and scenarios of unrepenting jargon that infiltrates the Read more
a list of things that are yellow
sunlight egg yolk daffodils a rare diamond amber anything not alive our house a sickly skin tone bruises the car you owned when we met butter lemons fallen leaves pineapples the tie you tried to strangle me with the straw in the ice water they gave me to drink at Read more
Dream #8: Familiar Silhouette Scents
She is a cinnamon shadow, outline of spice in her valleys below. A shimmering smile of ten plagues makes the atmosphere consistently vague. Time pyramids shift into the sand of the escapades. Conquests from the gossiping charade, pissing out falsifying words of lemonade. They lead their own illusory parade. He Read more
Sestina for the Unforgivable
I woke with your name still in my mouth I swore I could feel your softsweet breath still on my neck my whole body a prayer bowl ringing my trembling heart still sounding in my ears hearing you asking me to jump to let myself fall with you into candescent Read more
On Newman Road
Here, I bottle-feed an orphaned lamb for the farmer next door. Feel maternal at nine. I dodge spider webs in our garden while picking tomatoes to grind into Mom’s Sunday dinner sauce. I run beneath our neighbor’s trellises. The only girl. Play War with Donny and Danny among the vines. Read more