People don’t grow up the way they used to. By which I mean— sometimes I store trash in the freezer to make it to garbage day. I harness the cold to disinfect my jeans. My…
Browsing Category Poetry
Three Poems
Going Out of Business Here, at the end of all things, or at least the end of the mall, where in another lifetime my aunt wore heels and bright suits every day, took me to…
This Is Not a Sonnet for Your Silence
Force a flower from a branch like a dead god come back. The king is about to announce there are no cracks. But a hundred bucks says that thirst-trap snapping Jolene will one hundo percent…