“Hope is the Thing With Feathers” and “Planetary Body”

Hope is the Thing With Feathers A Burning Haibun Here, April means storms. But that day, no one expected hail to bullet out of an open-mouthed sky. It rolled off the neighboring roofs, ricocheted into our windows, warped the siding. We stood in the middle of our living room, dumbfounded at the sounds of being surrounded. Fifteen minutes felt like years. Afterward, we held hands…

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Kneeling in a pew, the straw-strewn

Sheep fell outside herselfpink anemone protrusion pinktongue splat wide between molarsa yell like a horn or stripeof gummy candy. O matted warmbody, curled around youngclumps of boneless massMother As we kneel, our elbows redin your colostrum/shit-cakedhole. O sheep!Bodies pressed to the woodto the wool—nowyou must run and hopeyour own vulva flips, a fruitpitted, a gut strung, a childhappy, twirling in the waves. Photo by Antonello…

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I Hide When the FedEx Man Parks Outside my Apartment

I do not want him to see me sitting in my recliner by the window. Only I am aware of this secret—that I ordered furniture online because it would be too heavy for me to carry to the second floor alone. I crouch behind the wall, watch him brace himself, watch him balance the first package on his shoulder like a see-saw, a dresser for…

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