after the 25th Poets Walk with Poets House in NYC I think about the kindnesses in my life. I met a man on the downtown 2 train Who told…

  The boars were digging up the other side of the field, and already years have passed since the electrical discharge sitting atop a thunderstorm leaped across the forest overpacked…

  A corpse reclining on my couch. I insert extra pillows behind his head until his jaw gapes slightly. I call my neighbor. She answers her phone twice daily: sunrise…

  “Life is strange,” my father says, at 95. Why argue with that? I drove down to TX to see him last week, to try and convince him to stop…

  I feel there’s a bug crawling around in my hair, so I’m brushing at myself. I’m running myself into the ground, bobbing and weaving. The bug is telling me…

  Metamour not a word I thought would ever describe me. Partner’s partner. My partner loves two or more people. My partner’s partner was here first. I am trying to…

  Here I am in a cellophane dress, an outrageous bouquet in my lap. I wear a watch I’ve never consulted; my shoes are so new you could lick them.…

  from the Silueta series I am twenty-five and shrouded in flowers, lying in my own shallow grave. You could call it premonition. But look now: I come back to…

  Again my outfit is perfect and all the rooms are empty. I am thirty-two; my favorite pet is medieval; no one has come ’round to take my photograph. What…

  to not have to dry and then style my hair to not have to wear makeup to just be a person to just have to brush my teeth to…

  it’s not desire but a constellation of semi-filled Mason jars scattering the nightstand but the recognition of cedar bending space between us but a chipmunk chasing its tail in…

  The herd of goats whispers, We’re tired of the snow. I whisper back, I know, scratch between their curved horns. Four of them chew hay, three jostle for feed,…