What Kind of Bird Changes Its Name

poetry
  was what the search engine recommended before I could finish my intended question—what kind of bird changes its song? The bird in the old oak over my parents' pool…

Tanyard Creek

poetry
  Bella Vista, Arkansas The roll of the waterfall calls to me. Dirt clings to my shoes stepping past rocks on the path, trying not to scare herons feasting nearby.…

Driving in 2016

poetry
  It was fall when I showed you the desert. The imported +maples on campus beginning to turn while unseen coyotes sang in mourning. The San Gabriels ran to our…

When I am drunk enough…

poetry
  When I am drunk enough, I am reminded I can frame whatever I want. Between you & me, home. Between you & me, the eyes of your binoculars. Between…

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…