Category: Poetry

Good Morning small room with no windows, folk punk and three birds squawking at me— I slept on the floor last night I dreamt of running a potluck without contributions and barely any food I quit my job, spent all my money on chard and italian cheese I … Continue Reading

with you: an entrance when you open your eyelids glitter specks of fever dream and its a buzzing day a day to burst and fruit a winged seed in sun hips knife and writhe, soft hair filling fist   … Continue Reading

Cowpokes spun lasso diction across a white girl’s youth. Storefronts seemed larger than they were just as what I presented was flat. A mustache on one man’s lip stood for passion, on another’s meant death. What was I to do with the heavy weight of skir … Continue Reading

including the Peter Pan bus driver. He seems normal enough – until we’re on the road. With him at the wheel and on the microphone, he’s got a captive audience. “This bus will make the following stops: New Britain, Connecticut; Hartford, Connecticut; Sp … Continue Reading

The click, click of old Irish gold and wedding ring passed from nurse to hand, after a tug over a knuckle cracked and rooted in the past like an old ground stump.   Across the dance floor, at the Heidelberg bar, after a stranger’s slap to the ass … Continue Reading

                                     for Les The wood is entered from a settled place, its darkness a murmur that hangs like threads of time, vines indescribably local yet never seen before. A pond, perhaps vernal, seems to hold everything I do not kno … Continue Reading