cicada's hymn
Untitled
Untitled
Your name has become muscle memory for me. The atavistic tendencies of time travel. Sweet billowing hills laying rampant like a red carpet....
I wouldn’t say I have a brown thumb.Fresh green weeds spring up where I garden,infiltratingthe flowering natives.
I cultivate a wild look,but when does the...
I Want Better
I want better.
I find this double mindedness debilitatingAnd I am hating the outcomes that I see
I want to flee from realityBecause of...
My little sister is beautiful.She has our father’s eyes, brown.Her mother’s skin—light, blinding.
Something in her skin draws meand I look like a confused scribble,a...
Mid-Thirties
Toddler, pigtails loosening,hides behind her mother’s legs,two tiny hands around one adult knee.Mother leans down,whispers in her daughter’s ear.Child smiles,tilts her head to one...
Sheltering in Place
The desert wind outside my window howls.Tree branches, desiccated by the rainless winter,toss and rustle with eerily sibilant sounds.The wind itself moans...
stars melt in your skin
for R.M
quiet nights held inside your hands like water waitingfor the chance to become your ladder.
you first reminisced, as if...
After William Carlos Williams
So much
De
Pends
Uponthe dazed chickens
Fraughtwith meltwater
Besidesthe demonic and menacing
Icecream truck
Thatcirculates the neighborhood
Withan off-key kilter tune:
(Davidsings-“ dee bee dee bee dee bee boop...
