Marshmallow in the Microwave

Water molecules cause the inflation–
how the heart expands several times
in the span of too-few seconds.

The depths of my sweetness,
you call suffocating– the airbag
after collision. A time bomb–

we promised to open the door
before making a mess,
but we kept growing inside

ourselves. Body inside body,
slow spinning made us dizzy.

We were fine before. Small,
we never knew the depths
of our grandness.

Even then, we were sugar.
We opened our mouths
and licked hot the walls.

In the process of swelling,
we long to burst, to stick
to a heart that holds

the excess.

 

(originally published in Umbrella Factory, Fall 2018)

 

Room Where a Plant Can’t Breathe

Claustrophobic. No evidence of photo-
synthesis the sunlight blocked through
conversation. Blackout words, the paint

-ings on the wall are meaningless. One,
a landscape of dull pastels. The other a
drooping couple, Dali-esque but less-

refined. A grandfather clock ticks
endless quiet not enough to mask the
silence, which is deafening.

 

(originally published in Thirteen Myna Birds, Summer 2018)

 

Valentine for Sara Rosenblum

Fuck fake corporate holidays–

                                      ok, I said it.
Drained
our hearts fighting capitalism
but the system says February 14
is the best day to say you love
your person, to shower them
in candy and chocolate until
they can taste no more sweet.
                                                This is
our first Valentine and I miss you
terribly in these long hours
we spend at places we’re paid
to spend our lives in to survive
and what else would we spend
on but sweets?
                                       In the past,
I’ve wanted to take a baseball bat to
Valentine Day’s piñata and smash
out all its greed–
                                     this year, though,
you are my Valentine, and every day
I spend with you already I want to bury you
in a mountain of CVS candy and chocolate,
hold you close to me and whisper
I love you, I love you, I love you

                        ok, today’s a good excuse.

(Originally published in Magnolia Review, Summer 2018)

2017 Mantra

Build bridges, not walls,
though bridges ice faster
than roads we traveled–
hundreds of miles,
only to boomerang back
to before, while thousands of
armed windmills gasp for air–

the sunset through the bug-
stained window moves faster
than us toward a semblance of home–
swirls of clouds quivering
into the arms of weeping
willows simply
weeping–

 

(originally published in The Wayward Sword, Summer 2018)