On:

a found poem, after Giannina Braschi Madmen fear no moon, fear no fire. Burns of flesh are poetry. Madmen’s wounds are poetry. Salt is for fish, salt is for death, the poem is not among the dead. Remember, but don’t write it. sleepwalker among cats, thief among dogs, man amongContinue Reading

On:

the symphony of bugs buzzing around our brightbodies. the spray acrid as gasoline over our arms,legs, torsos, faces scrunched like zipper spokes. the wind hesitating before reaching to touchthe leaves, our hair sticky with sweat beinglifted briefly before settling again. a reflection telescope takes time to temperature adjust.nothing to doContinue Reading

On:

after Katrina Agbayani though i spent much of my life trying.chased the barrels like i’d never known the rush of dizziness.clutched the mane of a living thing like we were one and the same.rode bareback in winter like my favorite childhood movie.somewhere in a box left in my childhood homeContinue Reading

On:

after Karin Gottshall lake superior whispered me into existence, from dream to bodily dream. my body was never meant to be so far from the water. but so it goes. summer of 1997, a year early and a little extra change. my mother was round with life, my father ripeContinue Reading