Category: Poetry

These pores in my hands are wells descending to the vault of my bones— a granite cradle shaped in the womb. Blood fused into bricks, cemented with the cigarette ashes my mother smoked— still compact inside my ribs. These teeth,...

Not a ljósálfar, I live in no proximity to gods and not a døkkálfar, I don’t live underground* I am not good, I am not wicked My(s)elf is middle-of-the-road but like a certain kind of toad** has its fire-in-the-belly Not...

No one will ever paint or saint me, so I’ll live as freely as I wish without a fear that haughty pundits might bestow denunciations that could carry clout. As Nobody-who-are-you, I celebrate (s)elf-governance and nonalignment,...

The smell of chlorine takes me back to our pool days – the midnight fence hops, well after closing — cheap beer and the innocence of summer nights we thought would never freeze. Jumps off the third tower, the splash of...

On the drive to work, I see turkeys on the side of the road. They seem pissed that I’m in their way. They were here first, so I politely stop and let them cross. What I do not understand is why can’t they just wait their turn...

On your birthday I think about calling, but I go for the text message — and nothing comes back. No surprise; you never showed any sense of urgency, or was on time for anything — like on the night you ended us, you...

she leaves at 2AM, no note or text tops the tank, takes the back roads out of town his words on her brain, bruises on her face gets pulled over 75 miles out of town tells the cop her story; he writes the ticket she can come back...

phone call today asking to speak with you I’m not even sure why I answered my heart pinged at your name spoken I replied there’s no one by that name here I toyed with saying more but decided against after hanging up...

you were here just now kitchen dance party your laugh as you stood still and I twirled around you as you asked (in my memory) does this count? just so you know it all counted it counts, still you were here just now kitchen dance...

at my annual physical last month, my doctor asked me who I live with after pausing to think, I said just me later in our conversation, I mentioned my amazing one-whiskered, otherwise all-black cat I was telling some anecdote...