Alignment

poetry
  I didn’t travel much growing up, couldn’t afford it or the demands of state lines and TSA. On my first flight disentangled from Spirit Airlines, I hated the first-class…

Giving

poetry
  Though I am unphased by the sight of blood and have no problem staring down the barrel of a needle, I hate getting blood drawn. My veins are what…

The Unicorn Lair

poetry
  Once, it was feared that exceeding the speed of sound meant a man might outfly his voice and strangle on his screams. Not laughing, a woman tells me that…

Because nostalgia…

poetry
  Because nostalgia prefers melancholy, say distance. Because distance is my nemesis, say conquest. Because I am a fable made flesh & bone brimmed with dirt, say massacre. Because I…

When I Manage to Sleep Past 3 am

poetry
  you may be sure my husband’s alarm +wakes me. We spoke of time this week. Is time a concept, construct, illusion? +Yesterday I changed my pants, twisted my knee…

Grief-Fed

poetry
  I swallow my grief like a confection, tongue the sweet until it too disappears like polar ice and the bears, bees spiraling to oblivion, my father wasting in his…

peels

poetry
  +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++my father sips coffee while i dance +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++with a sailor on a strand of leftover +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++light from a dead star and i am +++++++++++++++++++++++++++cinderella in the back bedroom +++++++++++++++++++++++++++again…

The Old Raptures [Pompeii]

poetry
  If loneliness is this—the loss of sight that comes of looking directly into sun, or the hand that gives shade, the one that hangs over someone’s eyes like the…

Murals

poetry
  Rufus Porter’s nephew and the man called Paine drew a line for the horizon and stenciled in the trunks and branches of the trees on the plaster walls, made…

Oscar-Worthy Films

poetry
  Let’s have a leading lady whose thighs touch Like a mother’s loving squeeze, A lead who has to carry baby powder In her purse for chafing. A damsel who…

In Your Orbit

poetry
  “Ass so fat you can see it from the front.”—Yasiin Bey At Auntie Anne’s pretzel hut A teenager with cratered Pockmarked acne declares That ass is like the moon—…