Poems, etc.

I’ll know it’s really summer when the  weeds are taller than me; when the rain washes the afternoon like a hand sliding over a mirror...

In a dream I wake up and can’t  find you anywhere. The clouds are pink fangs and the house is a mouth full  of wind. I can trace the...

I. Fear is a snake coiled in my belly. I can feel it blinking. When I charm it out there will be deep grief so for now we sit with each...