Untitled I After Phil Kaye’s “Canyon” I lost contact with my obaachanfor a while. My tongue got tangledfrom gibberish versions of overhearingmom’s phone calls with her sisters and theEnglish alphabet as the sonics of kanjislipped…
Browsing Category Prose, Poetry, and Art
The Bar Where We Met Is Closing
forever which means we are the ghostsI always knew we were.What haunts me is that I am certainthat everything that has ever happenedthat everything that will ever happenis happening right now. When I order a…
This is The Poem I Always Wanted to Write
This is the poem I always wanted to writeAbout trees and precipices and the PacificCoast in the state of Oregon, about momWho loved dad who passed away when itWas too early to know what fatherhood…
“Venerate” & “because my womb is churning into its own source”
Photo by Claudio Schwarz on Unsplash
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…