Dust

Dust

  How many little lives in between my fingernails, how many layers of sod, of seed? This cold grass is all corpse and it’s only six o’clock in the evening. At the group home, I’ll spoon green beans and strained peaches into my grandfather’s...
Two Poems

Two Poems

  Heat/Stroke Crawled. I                 crawled. Knees and palms.                                                                 Concrete scratching my fingertips.                                 My heart’s heat a rotten star...
Four Poems

Four Poems

  Quarry Floating dock and the sun and a lady with her infant and a black dog swimming with a branch and a boy I loved all silken and mocking me from his heavy lashes surprised with bright drops of water. He was kind but he had this weakness. We swam together every...
You See Her Body

You See Her Body

  I remember when you found your mother, said your uncle. You close your eyes, smell chlorine. See the backyard’s cedars, bougainvillea shadow her swollen body. She bobs, arms mottled, face down. Her nightgown twists – white lace winds her body. There is no note....
Five Poems

Five Poems

  Aftermath Some places are more striking when destroyed, when struck. We are formed of such rebellions: cancer in the suburbs, riot in the cell block. Some things just seem to shine in aftermath, neon glistening down the dark length of the half-shelled remnant of a...
Two Poems

Two Poems

  Dream And there you were, elegant and engaging, though not with the people around you, more with the air of the room, an intimacy between you that I sensed as I watched you, smiling though not speaking, infused with the calm of a glassy lake in your brown-worsted...
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