Photo by Claudio Schwarz on Unsplash
“Venerate” & “because my womb is churning into its own source”
Stealing Mail
I wondered if the Mediterranean ever got snow that night when he texted. U up? And I went, Who is this? GUNNER. He sent a winking face, U busy? I was writing out the Greek alphabet so I told him, Not really. He called then, waiting on the bench outside my dorm. Could I please let him in? Together, we walked a dank hall, climbed…
“THE SKYLINE IS TWO GAZES LONG” & “NEW TAMPA”
Driving home from the coast with sea spongesand sand in your hair, we don’t yet know how to die. THE SKYLINE IS TWO GAZES LONG Driving home from the coast with sea sponges and sand in your hair, we don’t yet know how to die. We don’t yet understand the languid metaphor of a sunset, someone saying goodbye and really when we cut these jeans…
This Living
His bony knees scrapetheir slow way towardthe passenger seat becausethere’s no rushing thisliving; the body is a congenitalgift, a boulder to impelthrough each day, its facelimned in rough beauty. Once tucked into the littleChevy, my father lowershis brow, waitsbehind closed eyes for words that refuseto arrive. SoonI will drive him to the testwhere they’ll shovean acid strip down his nose and into his stomach,because this…
Ghosts Are Full Here as the Hungry Half Moon Rises
And so am I, full with the imprints of time and memory. I am rich in soul, yet I’m hungry for more. It’s not a feast I want: I want what singer Sam Garrett wants, “More life, more blessings; more peace, more unity.” Through the years, I’ve discovered ghosts here in the ashes of people spread on the lake shore. By here, I mean “The…