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Valentine
Hey now, can you keep me under the radar, in that spot where the rain falls heavy Can you be the cloud that rushes me alive Hey can you keep me tucked in your pocket, deep in the dark where your heartbeat hides Can you dance with me to the same tune under the glow…
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2017: Depression Ate My Brain
I wish the years were neatly separate, distinct like they are on paper segmented like an earthworm you can tear apart and watch the old parts writhe and bleed
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Losing October
In my nightmares there is metal everywhere. The little one is hungry, two-dimensional I’m not sure if he’s real or a creation of my imagination and the wires the image projected flat onto the glass — The eyes are still the same. When he was broken, once I carried him and had him cast. I…
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Altar
Let’s make a little altar here from the things that we collected while we walked. Let’s make a little altar from the broken sticks, the colored leaves, the tiny stones that pressed between our palms like everything. Let’s make a little altar from the love notes and the bits of songs the promises and tears…
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Periwinkle Blue at 42
This is the age when I’m supposed to embrace myself, to wrap my loving arms around my ego and my thighs and to denounce the false ideals forced upon me by plastic fashion dolls and runway models built like I used to be, flat-assed, long-legged, stick limbs and a marked lack of cleavage, false women…
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Domestic(ate).
Don’t leave that there for me to find. I’ll never see it, hiding among the dirty dishes and the piles of laundry dumped out and waiting to be folded (worn dumped washed dried dumped repeat) and the half-empty ketchup bottle on the counter with the coffee filters the Pine-Sol stench and the blue toilet water…
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Dregs
If you don’t believe I’m an optimist, you’ve never seen me at the tail end of winter waiting for the vagrants to drag their weary bones across the lawn, leaving trails of dust and grooves from worn-down heels gaping mouths turned toward the clouds praying for rain while the birds drop hulls from angry beaks…
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Funhouse
Today seems like a good day, she thought, to post a written affirmation in the third person of how she saw herself Words borrowed from someone else and filtered through a hazy layer of optimism angled just so to avoid showing the piles of shit in the background and viewed through a funhouse mirror Nails…
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2016
Funny all the cracks that made your surface interesting, once upon a time have filled in now with dirt and grime and no amount of scrubbing can restore them Leonard Cohen left us blissful mirror-gazing at each other, dancing long and slow, until the end until the end and we were cavernous, and gaunt like…
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Vultures
circling, waiting for the chance to pluck the eyes out of the children
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April Fox 