Mow Me DownHe was mowing the ditch, not with a string cutterbut with a heavy moweras I walked by he felt he needed to explain –he was shirtless because of this...
I Was SilentTW: Sexual Assault
At least three Long IslandsI thought I could hangHe was such a gentlemanWalking me homeMemories are only in fragments
The officer...
Captives
Life and time have held us captives— turnedThe moon an imposter in the affairs of the night.
The justice-chirping canaries of yesterday have buriedTheir preaching...
a february afternoon withrumi and bach
thick crust dense walnut breadhe tears to add to the lamb stewcarrots onions peas a stockof pureed turnip kale...
We No Longer Kill Our Visitors
The millipede scurrying across the basement floorsearching for a dark corner in which to rest.
The spider dangling from the...
What’s Left of My Grandmother’s Signature
In her room at Poet’s Walkher first name begins witha cursive J elegantlycompleting itself on the wall,
resting in suspended...
These poems were commissioned by Day Eight within a project funded by DC Mayor Muriel Bowser's Office of AAPI Affairs, directed by Regie Cabico.
model...
Never Times Never (Shakespeare in the Pacific Northwest)
The poet, gilled
aches—
Salmon
his singular
fling upstream
arches hard—
spawns another poem
another daughter.
Having evaded this time
the law of...
