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Poems

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  • Oloid and Pareidolia

    Saturday, awake to the raw April outside. A dream that was on my tongue is gone with a swallow.

  • Home

    Those last days in Hollywood—

  • A Brief Portfolio

    I don’t know what the crows were arguing over

  • LITTLE PIECES OF STRING TOO SMALL TO BE USED | INCEST | HER LISTS | BIRD SONGS

    Granny's label on a box in her attic.

  • L’Heure Bleue

    Who was the first to say darkness “falls”?

  • Bruised Fruit

    These sun-poached pages like an old address book

  • The Afterlife of Breath

    My father dead on the gurney

  • July 4th

    Tarred roads starting to buckle,

  • Home-Boys: Baby & Me (a Sapphic)

    Ex-gang members. Driveby days over. Zero

  • The Fourth Walk

    Among the ruined are the ruins. Rules even skies can wreck in shreds,

  • Liebfraumilch, Scale and Season

    Our new son, fallen asleep

  • Plait

    When I first knotted my hair against the coming of winter, I had grown tired of playing jacks and didn’t yet find boys