As the wind whittles my bark,
carves my trunk,
Tag: writing
19
Carefree, seeking pleasure, full of hormones,
bent on banter. Crashing towards, orbiting,
or straddling our fuel—no center. What
is gravity? Can’t hold us down, or back. Just
Variety Assigned
The schoolmaster shoved a smorgasbord
of poems down our throats, so that we would know
that poems can be anything so poems can be good,
even possible. But I’ve swallowed too many
Dance (Trans Day of Remembrance 2022)
I’m not sure if I want to understand hatred—
murders on the eve of a day for remembering the dead.
Closing the Circle
The first time they fired the gun that lives inside my chest,
you stopped the bleeding—
almost like you loved me
or had ulterior motive.
Signatures at the Potluck
There’s nothing better than the best holiday dish,
and nothing worse than the best dish prepared badly.
Our matriarch was never much for traditions,
more one for meeting everybody’s shifting needs.
Extra
Oh, she’s a lot,
though she’s not too much.
toxicant
screw you and i hate you, and claws that i retract midair,
profiles you use to psychoanalyze, your gaze and how
Help
Welcome to America, where the most convincing AI
is for spreading lies about politicians to donut shops
on the phone,
Gas Lit
To the canary trapped inside a cave,
the puzzle is the cage-
Alphabet Ravine 