-
spring manual
boorish and clunky, abarred railing, a flush of hydrangeaspring green flower starterspeeking from a grave, returnthe sun to myth the bird’s songa manual for moving on
-
reflection
the sky superimposed on glass is sepia stretchedin wavesand Iknow as the clouds commune itwill no longerexist, still Ireach my fingerstowards theillusion, calling itback to crate me as gentle dew collectsin the cracks ofmy palms
-
lux
stalled stuck park in luxwouldn’t shift, I gave into the voidflashed lights and laughedshut off wrapped skin in rainis it used up? has it run dry?forward always up I try, I’m tryingbut stasis is a ring, once trappedyou sink, you at the base atthe center you at the endsI fray, I gleam
-
hearth
the shadows play houseand vibrate in rasps as a scatter of clunks and plastic rustle, still I taste the crisp-apple air from strange rain on my tongue, as paper-patio lights whistle through water like a lens, a hearth, a ruse– I can see it now the fire in your heartgrowing legs
-
boxes
in the mudroom, differentboxes exist, some empty some cut into slatssome folded to rest one contains paper withnumbers and conversations on weight, how muchto see into your body, to measurethe malign, how much for comfortcare, pulsing feel- good throughyour veins and how heavyyour heart without therespirator, how did the soulbreathe, in a metallic blue box,…
-
“shadows” — all of the light of all of our selves, all at once
(published through Bottlecap Press 2024) I feel like I’m shouting into the void a lot, lately. it’s been years since I’ve posted here. nevertheless, I’m floored to share my (new and first!!) poetry chapbook with you guys. ya’ll were always so supportive when I wrote daily, raw and often weird posts, and I’ve truly and…