The month wanes. Soon my mother will make sure I swallow three shredded dates daily, for the blood of me. I say: no can’t you see it’s a chore to dig them out, tongue on…
Browsing Category Poetry
Strange Features
I’m the type to go unseen in the world. I’m the milk of women. —Ellen Welcker Once while boarding a train Marilyn Monroe turned to a friend and said Do you want to see me…
Indexing the Life and Death Experience of Homelessness
Image: Scott Web, Public Domain CC0 Image
Two Mice of Ivory and Other Poems
Two Mice of Ivory The year my father set adrift, the levee burst, my family’s belongings blew out all the windows and doors— making clear who held the foundation, close-fisted and sturdy— and nobody cared…
For Tomorrow
Oftentimes I wake with Don’t Forget written on the back of my hand in black ink. I never remember what— Maybe the dead headlight, or car oil rotting in its pipe. Perhaps, a reminder to…